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

[inutilis]

[ it would take a special sort of idiot oblivious soul not to notice the near palpable frigidity between them; while CielElesia hasn't exactly been the most warmly welcoming soul in the world, neither has she been outright hostile. this isn't hostility either, per say, but... there's definitely something unpleasant in it. ]

...You-- ah...

[ did he say something wrong?? maybe she's simply allergic to idiots which is an entirely valid standpoint to have tbh, but... somehow, he gets the feeling it isn't his Rambling that's bothered her.

he doesn't... understand. ah, the tragedy of being 2iq......... ]

[expiera]

Whether you're hard on hearing or simply mocking me at this point, there's no conversation to be had with a man who amuses himself with misnaming strangers.

[Not outright hostile, perhaps, but one would be beyond blind and deaf to describe a complete lack of it around them at this point. He finally got her to look back, however briefly, and it's only to deliver an empty, soulless stare. As if she was looking at something not merely unpleasant, but shouldn't even exist to begin with.

That much spelled out, she resumes her steps with no intention of stopping again.]

[inutilis]

...W-wait, what do you--

[ he only manages to stammer something out after the look she levels his way manages to run his blood cold. there is something about it-- something deeply unnerving, something that shivers through him in all the places still afflicted by the Kenoma's influence. that look is hollow and biting, even if there is no outright malice in it, no explicit ill intent. ]

That... it isn't your name?

[ but he's certain he heard...

...is he mistaken? he is so sure that is the name he'd heard, firm and distinct through their shared chaos-- uttered by this voice, no less. but maybe it hadn't been hers, after all?

regardless, it's something that seems to scream that it is off-limits, even if Abel doesn't understand it. ]

--I'm sorry. That was-- it's my mistake, so... I'm sorry, if I've gotten my wires mixed up somewhere, miss.

[expiera]

[He finally seems to get it. His attempt at apology is the only reason her steps are stalling once more. She's no longer looking his way, but her tone remains hollow and cold.]

No, and I already told you as much. For someone who supposedly wants to "understand", you don't seem to care much about what I say. [Not just repeating that name, but at letting go, too.] It makes your gratitude and apology ring hollow. If you like your own voice so much, I'll leave you to it.

[inutilis]

...H-hey, that isn't--

[ fair? what he meant at all? it isn't, though Abel isn't the sort to argue his own righteousness in the eyes of others. he's far more concerned with any slight perceived on the other party, little thought given to anything else. ]

I'm not saying any of this for the sake of it... and my voice is the last one I like hearing, for your information... [ thought it comes out with an attempt at something faux haughty and petulant, trying to rein this back from wherever it's going. ] I-- I would've sworn that was...

[ ... ]

...It's not important, in the end. I was wrong, and... I am sorry, miss. If you give me some other way to address you, then-- I happily will.

[expiera]

[It isn't fair, no, but it's already achieved the desired effect. It's taken some wind out of his sails, yet the fact that he's still trying is not lost on her. Persistent... Somewhat masochistic too, isn't it?

She keeps her exhale quiet and to herself this time, before turning around to face him properly in full.]

Just tell me what you want from me, though I doubt I can give it.

[A beat.]

You'll have my name once you need it.

[So no, her name is off the tables even if he'd like to have it. Consider it the consequence of misnaming her twice, she reserves the right to doubt if she can even trust him with that much.]

[inutilis]

[ like a dog with a bone, he never knows how to let go. someone never taught him drop it; remiss in his training smh...

...Abel shifts his weight uncomfortably for a moment as he finds himself under the full weight of her reproachful, decidedly heavy gaze. it isn't his imagination, right...? that strange, uneasy sensation that she can see right through him, somehow? piercing, mm. he averts his own gaze to some place at the cavern floor between them, and... ah, it's really foolish of him, isn't it? he feels a bit lightheaded for standing so long, going chasing after certain blue haired women whose names are a very confusing point of contention, a-and-- why is he chasing after her to begin with?? does he even know...? ]

Ah. So, I'm not even worthy of your name...? Being punished, maybe? Fair, that's fair, I suppose, um-- Look, I really didn't mean to-- ah, you know-- insult you, o-or needle at something unpleasant, or... I just--

[ ............he isn't very eloquent, and he's stretching into Ramble territory too easily, ]

...I don't want anything from you, miss? [ is that a question, ] I mean, I didn't-- I-I was just--

[ ahhh, how is this going so utterly terribly... he is barely resisting the urge to coil his hands in his hair and tug. ]

I-- just...

[expiera]

[She's heaving her second sigh before she even realizes it. Not just a dog with a bone but poorly trained at that, no wonder it was messily drooling then and awooing around without direction now...]

Yet you can't help but continue following me. Let's try a different question, then. Do you know what you want?

[inutilis]

[ does he know what he wants...?

...

there is a long, pregnant silence-- before Abel heaves a sigh of his own, fidgeting with the cloak's fabric between his hands. ]

To be completely honest with you, I-- I'm not really sure, actually.

[ though it is said with a measure of coyness, it wouldn't be a stretch to get the impression that Abel isn't particularly embarrassed as much as he is mildly uncertain about this. something in him is definitely insisting he not let her go, isn't it...? he can't deny it, but... even he isn't sure what to do with someone who couldn't want any less to do with him if she tried. ]

...Maybe it's a gut feeling? Does that sound silly?

[expiera]

[He gets an unimpressed stare back. No, that he answers this way isn't silly, because--]

You've been silly long before you woke up, so no, not particularly. [Maybe even earlier tbh, she's starting to not just suspect but be quite sure of, for some reason,] Are you sure you're not just still sleepy?

[inutilis]

[ you know, usually-- he might take 'silly' as a compliment, because it's kind of what he's going for. disarming?? silly?? an idiot...?? harmless???

why does it feel like a barb somehow coming from her...... hm, ]

Sleepy? [ sleepy, she says? SLEEPY. ] Ah-- well, maybe? But-- I mean... being sleepy isn't why I'm-- [ 'harassing you' is that what he is really going to say-- ] --S-simply trying to... that is-- what's really ha... happening here, is...

[ ............ ]

This conversation, is... extremely taxing, somehow. Did you know that? A-are you working some kind of weird witchcraft on me--? I feel like my brain is melting from my ears, Miss... ah-- is it melting? Do you see it?!

[ he is sticking a fingy...... in his ear, now, ]

[expiera]

[...He's doing this on purpose,]

The only thing leaking out of you was drool, and if there's other things too, is that really the sort of thing you want to talk about to a woman you just met? Do you know what they normally call this?

[It's two words and ends with HARASSMENT, she continues flatly and may as well be speaking like an android,]

[inutilis]

[ okay but he's partners with a robot so this SHOULD be making him feel more at home, right? it should be? making him feel more at home. this. her absolutely empty, devoid-of-inflection manner of speaking,

instead he feels like he is approximately .5 seconds away from GRIEVOUS MORTAL PERIL at any given moment. that is sooo strange? really weird that he would be getting that sort of impression right about now considering how unsubstantiated it is, honestly,

...in fact, he has gone painfully still all the sudden for no reason at all with his finger... still lodged..... in his ear, ]

A... ha?

[ ha. sh-she's

joking, right? that was a joke? haha. a funny haha joke. a joke. she's got an excellent poker face, doesn't she? but she's totally joking, hahaha, wow, this kidder, ]

...Can we-- start over? Is it too late to-- I was drooling...? --Is it too late to start over?

[expiera]

Yes. Your face was dirty too, so it left a very visible trail down your chin. [She holds out the towel she was (somehow???) hanging onto all this time, unfolding it directly in front of his face to show him how what was once a clean white piece of cloth now is stained with whatever the heck his STUPID face had going for it before.

...Guess that explains why he had a towel in his facehole when he came to. One mystery solved!!]

...

[inutilis]

Oh, sure...!! Focus on the drool and not the starting over part and--

[ he's palming his face, now, scrubbing at it with a quietly muffled groan..... into her cloak that he still has in his grubby paws, ]

I get it, alright...? I-- I get it. I've made the worst possible impression, okay?! You don't need to rub it in, you th... think I'm some kind of reprobate, right?! Pond scum would be an improvement on me, is that it...?! Alright, already!! I surrender...! P-please have mercy on me, miss...

[expiera]

[At his stuffing his sorry mug into her cloak, she just

Closes her eyes,]

Have you done anything to prove you're not some overly talkative degenerate?

[These are clearly Godless lands they stand upon, nothing could have mercy on such a pitiful and miserable existence...]

[inutilis]

--Degenerate?! Excuse me, did you just call me a de... degene-- ugh,

[ aghast, Abel pulls the cloak abruptly down and away from his face, flustering in indignation and incredulity, but--

h-hey. ah, suddenly he's realizing getting so Animated and Haughty isn't the smartest thing he's ever done in his life, and before he can finish whatever doubtlessly moronic deluge of nonsense that was about to make its way out of him... he's giving a little uneven sort of sway, a bit lightheaded. it's been a little too long since anyone down here has been well, so... suppose he really should've been a little more self-aware, huh?

uh......

...are there two of her? w-wow, does Miss Elesia have a sister? equally cute, and equally grumpy sister? um, ]

[expiera]

--You...

[She trails off watching him, doing them both the immense favor of ignoring whatever vapid nonsense he was about to give voice to next in order to focus on... Well.

It's not quite enough to get her to retrace her steps, but she is absolutely watching with a sharper eye and (unfortunately) growing concern. Is this lanky beanpole really, after the show and a half he's been putting out--?]

[inutilis]

...What? What, was I--

[ oh, geez. he's making a concentrated effort to shake it off, because that is clearly what one does when not feeling well?? in the words of one Taylor Swift, you just, like, shake it off bro, ]

Um, s-sorry, I think I-- [ ... ] ah, did you-- what were you saying again? W-wait, maybe I-- don't want to know, on second thought.

[ ??? this situation just keeps getting more ??? doesn't it. is he inviting her to reinvigorate the Insult Machine???? smh, ]

[expiera]

...You shouldn't be standing. Go back to where you were sleeping before, there's at least water there.

[The towel (ft. his facegrime) is put aside as she crosses her arms over her chest once more, and it may be observable to a discerning eye that she seems somewhat torn despite still just standing there looking aloof. Good thing he's probably too out of it to notice, maybe?! The number of screws loose this guy has......]

[inutilis]

...I-is this some kind of pot shot I'm not understanding, or are you trying to get rid of me? Because, that's... I mean, you could just tell me you'd rather like it if I were out of your hair, miss. You... you've already done an embarrassing amount of enough, with the-- drool, so...

[ well he isn't... wrong...?? is he? she probably has like, at least five billion better things to do than deal with this, tbh... ]

[expiera]

I'm asking you to rest before you topple over on the spot. If you did that, then I would need to carry you back. Is that what you want?

[Totally not because she cares or anything, she's just setting the record straight okay, that's ALL this is,]

[inutilis]

[ a-ah. so she's-- right. right, that makes sense.

...well, Abel seems to get the message-- because he's taking a little step backward toward his spot against the cavern wall he'd been calling 'home,' for now. not exactly a, um, comfortable nor welcoming abode if there ever was one, but you know what? one makes due down here, and it's his. ]

N-no, no, of course not! ...Though I'm, admittedly, a little morbidly curious at the image of you dragging my sorry butt anywhere to be honest with you, ah...

[ how much do you want to bet he back-steps right into that cup of water, spills it, wipes out, whacks his head on the wall and somehow manages to take her down with him despite a few feet between them

it is entirely possible, ]

I'm really alright, though-- so please don't worry, okay? I don't want to take up any more of your time and I really do feel pretty awful about... earlier, so...

[ the name fiasco, mostly...... he is not particularly apologetic about the drool, ]

[expiera]

Easily. Now come on.

[Still looking Quite Stern, she'll be the one to catch up to him this time, making her way over with no hesitation in her stride. The distance between them is easily bridged the same way it was made, and she's expectantly glancing at him to follow along like a GOOD BOY for a change once she's actually surpassed him, taking the lead in guiding him back to where they came from in his sorry and desolate little corner of the Despair Cave.]

You need to sit down and stay hydrated. I didn't come down here to make your situation worse.

[She's not even trying to foolproof anything, but if she takes the lead, then she can make sure he doesn't trip over the spot where she left that cup of water. Things sometimes work out not terribly, just a coincidence, okay,]

[inutilis]

[ w-wait. --wait. what...? she's--

his blue-haired friend here is brushing past him with an expectant look that he would recognize anywhere; he's seen it levied his way far too many times to count. suppose he's just adding one more to the pile... it incites a little tug that thankfully doesn't require any conscious decision-making to occur, because part of his brain is still making dial-up noises. sh-she's...

...why, is she--

Abel finds himself shuffling back toward his Home Away From Home, made his by the sad, rumpled bedroll that smells like stale sweat and loneliness, not necessarily in that order-- but instead of obediently coming to Sit, he is...... standing there, hovering as he looks at her as if he's genuinely Lost. bewildered. and, perhaps, vaguely flustered, ]

Y-you...

[ .....thotsthoughts are happening. slowly. will they make it properly out of his mouth...?? who knows, but one can certainly hope....?? ]