EVENT #1: THE EMPTY THRONE

[aionmods]

The Empty Throne

DESCENT

Nearly two weeks after being dragged from shrine caverns, you hear along the grapevine that the "the throne room is complete." It doesn't take long to figure out what that means; the ritual grounds that you have been hearing mention of are finally prepared, and it's only a short while before you are once again being gathered together for travel. As a small mercy, at least this time the journey is short.

Through a passage that has been blocked by a gathering of soldiers for the entire length of your stay, a stairway is revealed to you. It leads deep into the ruins, through unfamiliar structures and into the bowels of the earth. Though your feel your are mostly going downward, the walk is still long on account of how many stairs their are, and the soldiers escorting you are restless. They are now being led by the stray, mask wearing Achamites that have been accompanying the group till now, silently observing. Whatever place this is, it seems that they now hold court.

Funneled into the chambers below, you are greeted by a massive, domed enclosure of stone. Positioned around its circular radius are twelve thrones in various states of disrepair, sized as if meant to seat giants. The backs of these thrones all differ slightly in design, though most have great cleaves of stone broken loose from their architecture, as if subjected to some great cataclysm. Each is engraved with a sigil, though some have been obscured by the destruction wrought. The throne closest to the entrance has been almost entirely demolished, making it impossible to glean much about.

The dome's ceiling appears to be hundreds of feet tall at its apex, its smooth surface disrupted by stalactites that puncture through its form like teeth. As a result, many chunks of the original structure seem to have cracked and collapsed in to the floor below. When examined closely, these fragments of the domed ceiling seem to be made of a material strangely reflective in quality, though caked in many years of dirt and grime. If large enough sections are cleaned, patterns may emerge, revealing designs that look almost like star maps. The floor beneath your feet as a similar, but subtly different quality, covered in wreckage and ruin but can be cleaned to reveal complex patterns of intersecting lines.

A careful eye will indicate that these lines all lead towards the center of the room - the one space that has been cleared and scrubbed prior to your arrival. Here, the lines converge, with carefully preserved marking in the stone that bely increasing levels of runic complexity the closer you look. This is where the ritual will be held, you are told.

THE RITUAL

There is not much time to regain your bearings before you are being shuffled forth towards the ritual space; no, all the waiting has already been done. Under the command of the smaller group of Achamites, the Hylicians will make heavy use of the whips in leading everyone to their places along the rune-inscribed circle. Before that, however, small cuts will be made to each prisoner with an athame, either on their hand or arm. With a sharp, burning sensation in the afflicted skin, these cuts will spread into wounds reflecting the image of one of the eleven sigils displayed on the thrones encircling the group, and matching the shrine they were originally pulled from.

With this accomplished, they can finally be taken into the circle. With a design comprised of four triangles overlapping, the design of an open eye carved at its center, all prisoners will be led to separates points on its design where the lines cross. Seemingly arranged by their shrine sigil to be closest to whatever throne represents them, they will be brought to their designated positions one by one. Any attempts to flee or disrupt the process will be dealt with swiftly and harshly, exacerbated by the increasing levels of paranoia and fear in the soldiers themselves. Whatever is being done here, they don't seem happy to involved with it either.

When everyone is in place, the seeming master of ceremonies will finally emerge. A dark haired woman will appear from the shadows, motes of golden light fluttering about her otherwise darkness-clad visage. Moving towards the center of the circle, she will stand over the marking of the eye and begin working her magicks. As if on cue, the soldiers will withdraw any remaining whips and scurry to the outside of the circle, only for new bonds of ethereal energy to lash out of the ritual circle itself, binding each and every prisoner and dragging them down to their knees. Among the soldiers, you can hear mutterings identifying this woman as "the Aion."

"Come," she says to the coterie of robed Achamites, who will approach the circle with an assortment of vials collected into cases. There is enough for each prisoner to be given a drink, and so they will; a vial of abyssal liquid will be forced into each one of your throats, no matter how uncomfortably it must be done. While no less ruthless, the Achamites have a different way about them as they work, forcing themselves upon you with a strange familiarity that feels more akin to a mother forcing their child to take medicine than the suspicious hostility of the soldiers. As the foul liquid touches your tongue, it takes on a consistency almost like a living thing, crawling down your throat even if you refuse to swallow, all while the Achamites stroke your hair and make saccharine assurances.

Once all the prisoners have been fed their vial, the Achamamites too will retreat from the circle - all except for one. Joining 'the Aion' at the center, the two of them will begin enacting a planned ceremony of sorts, that culminates in the following scene:

The Achamite kneels before the Aion, lifting their masked face to meet their dark gaze. They speak, in practiced tones.

"To the Kenoma my body, to the Kenoma my soul."

In response, the Aion holds the Achamite's face between their hands in almost a loving gesture. She speaks softly:

"By the blood of the Martyr, I accept your sacrifice."

From the Aion's hands a darkness spreads across the Achamite's body, as if they are melting and dissolving on a cellular level. She kneels along with them, cradling them as their body breaks down, pooling in a void-black liquid around their knees. It drains into the lines of the ritual circle, surging out towards the prisoners.

Within moments, the ritual is complete.

KENOMA SICKNESS

As this dark power surges throughout the ritual circle, you will find yourself almost consumed by the tide. Whatever foul creation you were forced to swallow wakes within your chest, and you can feel it move within your veins, inside you lungs, behind your eyes. As quickly as it begins, the flood of darkness washes over you, but not without leaving you stained.

Something has changed in its wake. As you return to your senses, you will notice the magical bonds of the circle have fallen away, leaving you free to move; for once, the soldiers will not move to lead or restrain you. Instead, the Hylicians warily back away from the ritual space, retreating towards the only path upwards, where they form a defensive line. The Achamites that linger make a series of ritual gestures, praying in voices too soft to hear. The Aion woman stands in the center, her hands blackened with residue from the person you just watched fall to pieces in her arms.

"You will be given time to find your truth," she says. "Use it well."

As you recover from the experience enough to stand, she and her Achamite entourage are already retreating to join the Hylician guard. Gradually, your situation will become clear: they intend to keep your trapped down here. However, it will not be the same as when you waited before. Instead, the soldiers simply intend to block your only exit out, and otherwise leave you free to roam the full diameter of the throne room, seemingly free to do whatever you want as long as it isn't trying to break free of the cavern's confines. Each day, they will offer to their prisoners a limit supply of food, water, and firewood, but nothing more. Beyond that, you only have your increasingly dirty white robes and the same bedrolls as before.

❖ COMMUNION
The first change you will experience is an itching darkness in your mind, like a psychic wound that is becoming infected. The sort of thoughts you would normally try to force down become increasingly hard to resist; despair, hatred, and fear will plague you, and requiring great feats of will to silence even temporarily. Phantoms of the things you'd rather forget will become a constant companion, all while a presence seems to whisper: when you accept your fate, the pain will stop.

Worse than this, the darkness of your mind may not remain private. As if awakened by the ritual, your empathetic sense has become impossibly strong, to the point that you feel the broadcasted emotions and thoughts of others, and in turn, your darkest thoughts will be psychically projected to others with a volume proportional to the intensity with which you feel them. This effect is most potent between those sharing Legacy, with the capacity for their identities to become momentarily confused. In all cases, this connection may bleed into your dreams, or manifest as hallucinations.

❖ TRANSFORMATION
Yet, your mind is not the only thing that ails. In proportion to the strength of your emotions, your body may begin changing to match your state of mind. Physical transformations akin to those mentioned here will begin to manifest, themed to your inner suffering and the most negative aspects of your self conception. These alterations may shift from moment to moment, depending on the turbulence of your emotional state. They may or may not be painful.

❖ AFFLICTION
Along with the above effects, characters may also experience various more mundane ailments; essentially anything traditionally associated with illness could fit. Weakness, nausea, body aches, and chills are all common options. Along with this, void-black ooze may start to trickle from virtually any orifice. While it may stain clothing and skin, the material itself will dissipate after a few minutes in a manner reminiscent of ectoplasm. This effect may also appear around your Shard, as if the stone itself has begun to bleed.

RESISTANCE

Even as the Kenoma threatens to overwhelm you, you still have the power to fight. Though it may be a grueling war of attrition, you can force back its advances with sufficient will to survive and resist the darkness. Of course, your captors are not going to make this easy for you. Those that fight hard enough to expel the Kenoma from their bodies and spirits will take at least a week to do so, and for that duration they will be trapped within this chilly cavern, haunted by their worst thoughts and emotions.

The bedrolls barely strand up against the cold, your clothing doesn't at all, and to be comfortable you'll require fire. Yet, there is a limited amount provided to you, along with food and water, and the soldiers do not seem to be making any effort to distribute it evenly. Achieving basic warmth and sustenance may become a battle against your fellow inmates, all while you struggle against the enemy infecting your body. Cracks in the dome of the cavern lead into some smaller caverns and crevasses in the stone that can offer some privacy or protection, but the more splintered the group becomes the less the supplies will hold up. Fortunately for you, neither the cold nor starvation will kill you, but it will make you suffer.

Yet, you may still persevere. As you fight back the Kenoma, something else will be cultivated in its place. Bit by bit, a comforting and warm presence will grow within you, gradually disrupting the maladies afflicting your body and mind. Your faith and perseverance has been rewarded with an attunement to the Pleroma, the Kenoma's cosmological opposite; given enough time, the Kenoma will be forced from your being entirely, in the form of void-black sludge. Only then will your power begin to shine through, the abilities of your past life slowly returning.

You must keep your guard. With or without otherworldly power, escape will be a struggle.

ACCEPTANCE

Or, you may choose the easy option. Maybe the Kenoma resonates with your history and emotions in a way that makes it seem like it isn't the enemy. Maybe the depths of your despair are too deep to escape. Maybe your simply lack the strength to fight. Whatever the reason, sooner or later, the Kenoma claims you. The more you let it in, the less it feels like a poison and the more it feels like strength. The darkness settles comfortably into the cracks and holes of your spirit, and you awaken to its power. You feel the change viscerally.

This world is not good enough, a voice seems to speak through the Kenoma. This suffering you feel, the cruelty that has birthed this darkness in you... it is simply the rot that is consuming this existence. A better universe awaits, one forged by your own hand, and all you need do is first bring about this broken reality's end.

Whatever effects you were suffering from the Kenoma's presence will fade away, and in its place, you will feel your endurance bolstered. The clarity is stark in comparison to the mire you were trapped in before. As the other prisoners suffer around you, the Aion woman from before and an accompaniment of a couple Hylician soldiers will approach you among the ruins, as if summoned straight to your location. She looks you over, her dark eyes impassive, and then asks:

"Did you feel it?"

She doesn't actually wait for an answer, your expression alone enough to assure her. She'll tell the soldiers that you are free to go, and that you are to be given a share of their food and a change of clothes. She'll escort you out of cavern and towards the upper ruins, where the soldiers and Achamites have set up camp. This feels natural to you, somehow, like you and her are on the same wavelength in a way that is hard to comprehend. She is like you, you sense. That dark power is within her as well.

She doesn't linger with you for long, but she will see that you are on your way before heading back to the caverns. She'll say that the voice you heard, that promise, was the Regent, the ruler of this land. They spoke of a power that could birth a new, better universe, and they weren't misleading you. It's within their reach, closer than ever, and if you help them achieve it you will be rewarded lavishly. For now, you are free to regain your strength while the others make their choices. She only asks that you stay in the area and be ready to join the Regent in Achamoth when all is prepared.

If you're prone to boredom, though, she will mention that you'd really be doing the prisoners a favor by convincing them to accept the Kenoma like you did. You could convince them with words, or by making their situations so unbearable they won't have a choice but to break. However you'd like. It won't be worse than what's coming for them if they carry on this way.

When she parts ways with you, you are left to your own devices. Somehow, you feel inclined to cooperate. After all, the Regent did have a point.

QUESTIONS

Are the involuntary transformations during the Kenoma sickness period temporary afflictions or permanent ones?
By default they are temporary, but characters can also keep a couple keepsake changes if you'd like! An Aion's physical appearance is something that is generally in flux, and so even if you keep something from this event, you can always alter it later.

What kind of supplies are going to be distributed to those who accept Kenoma and leave the caverns?
They'll be given food, water, and clothing. They'll be given more/better rations than they were as prisoners, but it's still the sort of food that is limited by the fact that they are out here on a mission. The soldiers will have some fresh meat from prey they've been hunting in the forest, and will generally be having a lot of stew-based food going. There are actual spices in it, though, so that's cool. This is all set up where the Hylicians are camping.

As for clothes, they will get a fresh set (including boots or shoes) and some soap to clean themselves up in the nearby creeks and ponds. Hylici has an aesthetic that leans towards ancient Greek/Roman, so while they won't have anything fancy with them, you are free to assume they are able to acquire anything in that general ballpark. They do also have pants, though. While it is now spring and Horos has a generally temperate climate, it can be chilly at night.

Will Pleroma attuned be able to escape once they've regained their powers?
Yes, they will be allowed to escape at that point, and a second log will be going up to cover that part of the event. This log should generally cover up until shortly after Pleroma start ejecting the Kenoma's influence. Characters are permitted to escape by their own power if they somehow devise a plan to do so, but as we know the Pleromas are at a significant disadvantage in this situation, some characters who have fought against the Kenoma particularly valiantly will be given some magical assistance to help the survivors escape.

Will the Kenomas be able to try to stop them?
Yes! The second log will be set up to contain some PVP, though given the Pleromas do need to escape, we ask that you play nice. There will be a battle, but it will be structured in the context of the Pleromas having to hold off the Kenomas long enough to escape, so it will be relatively brief.

Can we speak to "the Aion"?
Yes, she will be around for the full length of the event. All characters will have the chance to find her watching over the group whether they are Kenomas or soon to be Pleromas. She will not be that talkative, though, so anyone tagging her will have to lead the conversation. She will not make small talk. Martyrs will recognize her as one of them.

Comments

[semicharmed]

[ To be totally frank, there's a nonzero possibility that Matt just accepted the first clothes the soldiers handed him and was too polite to ask for pants.

Anyway, he nods in recognition when Amos mentions the Aion. Matt doesn't particularly like or trust her, given that what he knows of her involves the literal disintegration of a person, but he likes the idea of helping too. ]

That sounds really good. Smart to pace yourself, too, I was just gonna--barrel down there. [ Matt gives a self-deprecating chuckle. ] But it's good to see you like this too. Up here.

[ Struck by a sudden thought, Matt's bright look turns nearly incandescent. ] Oh! Hey, watch this--stand back.

[ Matt shuffles back a few steps, but that's all the warning Amos gets before Matt's holding his hand out, palm up, and breathing in sharply. His mind lights with intent, words flickering through that banish extraneous thought: who art seated in the cremation-ground strewn with funeral pyres--

And above Matt's outstretched hand, a column of orange flame shoots up. ]

[baltimores]

[ Sometimes you just don't wear pants. It's cool.

Amos raises an eyebrow at the idea of Matt just going right back down. It feels kinda in line with the guy he first met, before they were all forced down there. Not at all like guy he ran into when they were actually down there. So... it's a good sign, then.

He actually does smile about it being good to be seen. Up here. For the both of them. It's not a big one or anything, but the upwards quirk of his lips is unmistakeable.

He's about to say something in response when suddenly Matt's telling him to stand back, so, uh. Okay. Amos takes a step back, eyebrows rising at what this is about all of a sudden, and— whoa. ]

How d'you do that? [ He leans forward, bringing his face closer to the flame. Not close enough to singe any eyebrows or anything, but close enough to feel its warmth. It's nice. Would've been even nicer down there, but hey, it's here now. That's plenty fine by him. ] I didn't know you could do that.

[ He isn't exactly a man easily impressed, but... yeah. He's impressed. Considering everything he's experienced in this world so far, that might just be his first positive interaction with magic. Ever. So, that's cool. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt absolutely doesn't expect Amos to put his face so close to live fire. It's not too too close, but still a good deal closer than he would've imagined. He sputters a laugh of surprise, a bit breathless from the energy the spell required but far too happy to care. ]

I couldn't, [ he says. ] I mean--ever since I woke up here, I haven't been able to do magic, until I ... you know. Said yes.

But that's what this is. [ A slight nod towards the flame. ] Magic. So if you ever need something incinerated, or levitated, orrr ... illuminated ... I'm your guy.

[baltimores]

[ Amos looks back up at Matt when he laughs, eyes brightening at his clear happiness. It's. It's so nice to see, to hear. They made it out, everything else is behind them, and now they can have this.

The happiness is infectious; Amos can feel his own spirits rising. He straightens up along with them, away from the flame so he doesn't accidentally burn himself, but. This is the kind of playing with fire that's cool.

Saying yes was such a fucking good idea. ]

We don't got anything like this where I'm from. [ His smile widens. ] Can I keep you on call? Guy who can incinerate stuff's a useful guy to have around.

[ It's mostly teasing — he's just really happy to see Matt looking like he's in his element, so to speak — but also kind of not. Being able to set stuff on fire would legitimately be useful. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt can't help grinning in response to Amos' smile. It's a small grin, a kind of playful that's almost mischievous. Matt has an unparalleled ability to respond earnestly to rhetorical questions, but in this case he thinks he can pick up on the teasing vibes. ]

Please. I have years of experience setting fires, and only a tiny fraction were bedroom curtains.

[ Then, more seriously, as he lets the flame extinguish with a whoosh and a wisp of smoke, ] I mean, and I imagine we'll be working together pretty closely on ... whatever comes next. Next-next, that is.

[ This isn't entirely what he wants to say, which involves some form of I think I had a dream about you. But Matt's not sure there's a great segue into that whole topic. ]

[baltimores]

[ He exhales in amusement when it comes to starting fires. Good skill to hone. So much better when it's on purpose.

Amos' smile fades as the fire goes out, at Matt's next words. The time for exhilaration is over; though they're still in the rest and recovery period, there's going to be a lot more to come. Better to enjoy it now while they can, though whatever comes next is. Maybe tantalizing. He's not there yet, but he can feel its potential. ]

Yeah. Seems like an ambitious project. I wonder how long it's gonna take to get us to the level they need us at. [ Because as good as Amos is increasingly feeling with the Kenoma, he's still got a long way to go. Presumably so does everybody else here. You go through everything they have since arriving here, and...

But he's plenty content to talk shop. ] Feels good, being a part of something like this.

[ And, hey. As far as he's concerned, everything from the caverns is behind them. He's certainly not gonna bring it up if Matt isn't. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt nods slowly. His focus drifts for a moment, as if he's pondering an object that's far away--or, as is closer to the truth, deep within.

But then he says: ]

Yeah. [ Glancing back to Amos with a faint, curious smile. ] It does feel good. I don't expect it to for the whole time, or for it to be easy or anything, but ...

[ But he has a feeling in his gut, the same gravitational pull he gets when casting spells or reading ancient prayers or contemplating some natural event. A lightning storm, the ocean. The only word he can use to describe it is yes. ]

I think we're doing the right thing. Even if it seems ... counterintuitive.

[baltimores]

[ He thinks he gets it, where Matt went for a second there. Amos is pretty sure he's going to be going to that same place his own fair share in the future. There's something fascinating about it, like it's something new he's going to want to check in on constantly, just to be sure it's still there.

He matches Matt's smile. ]

In my experience, it doesn't really matter if you feel good the whole time. Just as long as you're on the right team. That's enough.

[ And they are. So it will be. Whatever hardships that befall them along the way, they'll be worth it in the end.

And, it's already his turn to look inward for a moment. Probe at the new feelings within. He isn't even close to understanding them, outside of a sense of inherent rightness. ]

Thought about that a little. But — [ ah, fuck, he's gonna dip his toe back into that particular water again, even if it is just for something offhanded — ] there's enough shit out there that I don't mind tearing it all down. If that's the best way to stop what happened to me from happening to someone else, then yeah. I don't mind it at all.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt nods at Amos' reply, brightening a tick. Amos seems to understand what he was getting at, and despite the gravity of the subject matter, it's nice to feel like they're on the same page. It's good, too, isn't it? It's such a big undertaking, they can't hope to succeed on their own.

His pleasant expression dims as Amos goes on--first to a curious, listening look, then to a frown. A piece of him is back in the dream, but not in the sinking, helpless way he'd felt while he was actually dreaming it. Instead, he's thinking of how Amos had acted in the dream, how he'd seemed to understand. What happened to me makes it click. ]

Do you think we could stop that? [ With a hint of fragile hope, rather than challenge. ] That the next version, could ... that there wouldn't be pain like that?

[ God, he wants to give Amos a hug or something. All the words Matt could form, "I'm so sorry" or "I get it" or whatever, seem pallid compared to the solidity of touch. But for all Matt's affinity for contact, he rarely initiates it without a solid go sign. He compromises by shifting a little closer. ]

[baltimores]

[ For his part, there isn't much in Amos' expression as he watches Matt piece things together. He doesn't exactly like people knowing that much about himself, but they'd had a connection down there. An unfortunate one, but someone who gets it. He can live with that.

Except Matt's question actually makes him brighten. And, hell, he'll take that step forward on his own, closing that extra space between them and clasping Matt's shoulder, giving him a friendly little shake. ]

Yeah. I didn't know a universe like that could be possible, but I also never thought about ending all of 'em, either. [ He keeps his hand on Matt's shoulder. Contact's all good. ] Don't really see the point of what we're doing here if we can't get rid of that.

[ Whole thing's already behind him. Keeping it that way was the best path to surviving, so. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt doesn't get very many shoulder claps, in the grand scheme of things. All touch is good touch in his book, so it prompts a moment's bemusement, but no more than that before Matt's reaching up to brush his fingers to the back of Amos' hand. ]

I guess I've thought of it in terms of ... entropy, you know, how ordered systems tend to move towards chaos, but I haven't thought about what might come next. I agree with you, though. [ A small smile. ] Maybe if we can get the starting conditions right, that kind of thing wouldn't have to exist. Ever. For anyone.

[ It's the kind of question that only existed for Matt as a hazy hypothetical before now, best explored in the hours between midnight and dawn amid a swirl of recreational poisons. But scientists have pointed out that the big bang wasn't necessarily the first iteration of the universe. They have no way of knowing what came before. And when a star dies, the energy has to go somewhere.

So why shouldn't it be true that now, when so much has died, its energy is poised--waiting--to flow into the next cycle? ]

[baltimores]

[ Shoulder claps are like, one of Amos' favourite things. Time to get used to them, buddy.

Though he kinda likes the way Matt reaches up to take his hand in turn. Like a reinforcement. Affirmation of a connection. None of them really have a lot in this world, but they've already got this. He gives his shoulder a small squeeze in response.

Back to the physics. Metaphysics? Whatever the subject actually is, it's one Amos can tell he's going to enjoy. Something he can speak to; maybe, with the weird way this world is, something he can learn more from. He's into it. ]

There's gotta be an endpoint, right? Maybe that's what we're doing. Speeding things along to their natural conclusion. [ And erasing how much suffering, just by hurrying things up? It feels like the right idea. ] But yeah. Nothing says the next universe has to look like this one, obey the same laws, any of that. Maybe that's the point. We're thinking too narrow because this is all we know. We get rid of it all, and everything just... opens up.

[ He's never thought about anything like this before. The real world already offered so many limitations — those in charge tend to stay in charge; status advancement only came through sheer luck; did you know it takes forever to go anywhere in space because it's really fucking big? — that starting with a truly clean slate just never seemed like something that could happen. There was always going to be something dragging you down. Always.

Maybe that doesn't have to be a universal constant, after all. He practically feels lighter just thinking about it. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Truly, it's a brave new world. But as long as Amos doesn't seem to mind Matt doing his thing--and he doesn't, if the squeeze is anything to go by--Matt's more than happy to let him do his. ]

Ugh. You're so right. [ He doesn't sound disgusted or even annoyed, as the sound might imply. Instead, he's smiling, shaking his head as if to say you got me there or I should've known. ] I've tried to expand my mind, you know, to sort of ... reach out and touch things that are bigger than me. Things I can't really wrap my head around. But we're still definitely such products of our context, like the worlds we're from and what was going on there--

[ Matt breaks off. Thinking about home is still a bit painful. Shaking his head again, he reroutes. ]

Yeah. It could all be different next time. [ Absently, his thumb brushes the back of Amos' hand. ] Maybe it'll ... show us that. How things could be.

[ It, they? Whatever that voice is inside him that isn't him, the sense of calm and certainty. ]

[baltimores]

[ Amos doesn't exactly trust others that easily, or open up to them... ever, necessarily. But there's something to be said for accidentally slipping into someone else's nightmare, a weird intimacy on a level he's never thought possible, and one that offered something so similar that just. Speeds things up.

Inadvertently smiles a little at the feeling of Matt's thumb on his hand. Being on the same page as someone else so thoroughly, so quickly, is. It's something.

Altruistically, the Kenoma was the right call. Selfishly, it was, too. Amos gives Matt's shoulder another light squeeze before gently sliding his hand out from under Matt's, mostly because he's not gonna leave it up there forever is the thing. He just lets both arms hang loose at his sides, but they're still standing plenty close enough. The proximity isn't unwelcome. ]

Fuck, do I want to see that.

[ It's really, really not something he thought possible. Because Matt's right about them being shaped by their context, and, well. ]

I've never tried to expand my mind before or anything like that. Didn't think I really could. I mean, [ a slight shrug, because he's perfectly capable of talking about these things as long as there's a considerable distance there, ] way I grew up kinda broke a lot of things for me. Permanently, I figured. Like you said, there's only so much we can do with our circumstances. Getting to see more than that...

[ Be more than that? Amos doesn't have the words for it, so he just kinda trails off, exhaling as he leaves the thought hanging unfinished in the air between them. He's pretty sure Matt knows what he's talking about, anyway. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt lets Amos have his hand back, a flicker of sheepishness crossing his face. You definitely can't just stand around holding somebody's hand all day, even if to Matt, it feels like you can while he's doing it. It feels like he could stay here forever, in a little bubble created by closeness and points of contact.

But of course, as it must, regular reality reasserts itself. Matt scrubs a hand over his left cheek, where the old scar sits, before he too lets his arms hang at his sides. These small shifts happen without Matt's conscious input: He's thinking about Amos. It hurts to hear him say he thought he was permanently broken, or diminished, or whatever, but Matt thinks he might be right. The things that happen to you while you're forming can just--turn off pathways in your brain. It's not fair. ]

I think we will.

[ What had Paul said? Let it tear you down, so you can rebuild yourself. That more than anything sends Matt from maybe into yes. ]

I think we'll change. And the changes will let us see what needs to come next. [ The words feel right coming out of his mouth. Weighted as if with their own authority. Still, Matt can't help smiling quickly and hedging, ] Or, at least ... I hope.