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]

[ that the answer is unknown isn't entirely surprising. suppose the matter of 'demons' and 'monsters' in Makoto's world is a complex and complicated subject; it seems natural it would be. but handing over one's humanity, losing it in such a way...

...Abel offers a slightly admonished sort of smile that is forced to his lips at the end of it all. suppose he has asked quite a bit of his company, hasn't he? personal bits, at that. the priest fidgets as he shifts his position, though whether in further unease or merely to make himself comfortable - it doesn't really matter. ]

I may have gotten a little carried away, Mr. M-- I hope... I hope that you don't take it the wrong way. It's just--

[ well, the disturbing nature of what one question had led to didn't exactly permit Abel to let the topic go, so to speak. it was not unlike some sort of snowball effect - one question led to another, and next thing he knew... they were here at the bottom of the slope, and Abel isn't sure he feels good about what he's learned. he can't imagine how difficult Makoto's life had to have been to make such a deal in the first place, even under duress and at the hands of manipulation. it sounds like things have only gotten worse for him since his 'transformation.'

but he owes an answer to a question, and while all of this might have gotten derailed - it did give Abel the answer he was looking for regarding how to proceed. ]

...You were wondering how I get through tough times, right? [ the question of whether or not he had experienced them seems moot; Abel does not like to paint himself the victim in his life - but rather the aggressor, the instigator of his own pain. the hardships he's endured have been his own making. but weathering them... ]

Maybe it sounds childish, or silly - but it took me a great many years to realize what might be painfully obvious to some. [ it is a rare bit of sincerity, melancholy, leaking through in this. ] The best way out is through. And the best way through is relying on those around you-- those you can trust, those you care for and who care for you in return. Some see this as a weakness, but... there is no question I wouldn't be here today if not for learning to let go in that way.

[ did Makoto ask in hopes of getting advice to see him through this...? if so, then... Abel hopes he takes what little he has to offer to heart. he doesn't have to be alone, even if Abel understands that trusting, relying on others in a time of vulnerability does not come as easy as it should to most. ]

[affal]

( none of it had been too much to give up — these were the simplest and most base facts about him now, of what he used to be, what he is now, and what he seeks to accomplish by any means necessary. it doesn't necessarily pain makoto to give voice to anything that he'd admitted to abel, but it does make him realize with irritating acuity how non-demon creatures might respond to the story. he doesn't want pity, and he scarcely wants sympathy; everything that had happened to him, he had technically agreed to, and so he unhappily grit his teeth and bore the blame — or, at least, the bit of blame that he didn't sink along with his feelings for his demon master.

he shakes his head, dismissive of abel's worries. ) Think nothing of it. There just isn't much more for me to tell.

( a blatant lie, but one he craftily wraps up in a half-truth — there's so much more to tell, but none that he really wants to divulge so freely and so easily.

he nods. at the time that he'd asked it, it had been little more than an errant thought; makoto himself has a very specific method of dealing with problems, but it's not exactly a... good or a healthy process. (it usually involves sulking extensively, entering a brief fit of rage which might or might not be violent to those completely innocent of the issue at hand, and then resolving into incendiary and dangerous oaths sworn over dinners and the like.) he has the feeling that his own bad habits will only bite him back here, so he extends his curiosity to his current companion, for better or for worse. given all the strange places and unique circumstances they come from, he had hoped for at least something to contemplate as they slowly submerge into their new fate.

though, given the answer that abel divulges to him......... perhaps he should have never asked. he deflates, expression slightly rude in his storminess, especially given how he can hear the notes of heartfelt earnestness ringing through the words. were makoto's heart not such a stunted and shriveled thing, perhaps he would've felt worse about his response, but, well...

those you can trust? those who care for you, and which you care for in return? he might as well have suggested he strike out to live at the bottom of the ocean. he had been a macabre shame to his family, too quiet and too strange to garner anything but ridicule and violence from his classmates. his life among the living had been worthless enough that he had actually trusted in the promise of a demon to love him and care for him, and abel now knew how that had all turned out. the only "friend" he could claim to have among the demons he left behind in the ashes of hell was someone he now had to actively keep an eye on, too wary of the growth of his power and prestige and how it might interfere with makoto's own plans...

and if anyone heard the full history between makoto and fjord (especially that of the first day they'd met), they'd think him completely insane for claiming the demon to be his only "friend." and even with that label, he wouldn't say he either trusts or cares for the demon past a certain threshold —

after inwardly thinking on the answer for a moment, makoto rolls his shoulders and dips his head in a way that he hopes appears considerate, his tone a little wooden as he says, ) I appreciate your sincerity, Abel. I will keep this in mind.

[inutilis]

[ though one might be hard pressed to imagine Abel as anything but a soft-hearted fool, it is the sort of demeanor that was learned rather than one that came naturally to him. it isn't like he doesn't understand that the prospect of kindness-- human or otherwise-- might be genuinely difficult for some to swallow, especially if they've had lives as rough as Makoto's seems. that isn't even taking into account the additional layer of trust, and friendship, and the ability to rely on these nebulous individuals atop it all--

basically? Abel gets it's a rather tall ask.

but he doesn't mean for Makoto to rely on those who aren't present, here-- either because he suspects he has no 'friends' to speak of (what a sad thought), or because said friends aren't likely to be here considering how few of the Aions' number were among familiar faces. he's offering an even taller ask - the prospect of relying on those around Makoto, to rely on those in similarly miserable straits. if nothing else, there has been some camaraderie built in their suffering.

Abel takes no offense to the hint of something sincerely Unimpressed in the demon's gaze; to the contrary, he quite expected his words to be icily received. if anything, it just elicits a little ho-hum sort of sigh before Abel tucks his knees a bit closer to his chest. ]

I know what you're thinking, alright? --And I told you, it might seem childish, or silly. But... for whatever it's worth to you-- you aren't alone. You don't have to be, either. I'm here, you're here... and even if we might not be thrilled about that bit, we're enduring. Just think about it, okay? Sometimes, letting yourself endure something miserable becomes a little less miserable with someone else.

[affal]

( don't you dare pity him, abel... don't you dare.....!!!!

really, his own perspective is this: he had asked the older man his opinion, but that didn't necessarily mean he had to take it. makoto has survived thus far by his own efforts and merit, suffering through scorn, alienation, humiliation, indignation, and death itself by sheer force of will. one could say it was a far less renewable resource than the one that abel was suggesting. just how much of a perpetual engine is one that's built to be fueled entirely on spite? surely it would be better for himself and everyone around him if he took abel's advice to heart, but...

well, perhaps that's simply too much to ask. this demon might be too far gone.

were the demon known as "m" not sitting next to abel — were he instead the human who had gone by the name of tachibana makoto, who had felt so forsaken in his place on Earth that he had willingly given his life to a demon, perhaps the words might have found ground more fertile and receptive for them to sprout and take root. as he is now, the ground they fall to is broken and barren. his shoulders rise and fall in an exhausted sigh, and he shakes his head. ) It's not that I think you sound naive. ( he pauses, thinking on how each breath feels more difficult to take than the last, as if the air that filled his lungs was as thick and heavy as honey. ) It's more that it's not very much in my instinct or my nature. But I will do what I can to take your words to heart.

( eh... kind of. he pauses a moment, then continues with a somewhat pained-looking smile, ) It's not as though we have much choice in keeping one another's company, given we're all seemingly trapped in here.

( says the guy who is about to spend the next three or four days huddled in a corner somewhere. hindsight is 20/20. )

[inutilis]

[ pity intensifies...... violently,

okay no, Abel isn't the sort to toss pity toward others-- but empathy? Makoto is going to have to swallow that in spades if he continues hanging around this man, which just furthers why keeping his current company is a terrible idea. terrible. bad for one's health. mmhm. truly tragic. swallowing FRIENDSHIP and COMPASSION? disgusting. maybe that corner of the cavern isn't a bad place to be in comparison??

Abel's smile becomes a little less sheepish and self-deprecating at the demon's response, however-- and he huffs a soft chuckle that isn't quite a laugh. ]

I suppose, at the least, it beats that whole 'dropped into a living volcano' bit, hm? ...But maybe for some of our number, not by much-- have you met that man who looks as though he's perpetually forced to swallow something bitter? [ Hubert....... ] Mm, mm. We do what we must, Mr. M. We do what we must.

want to wrap this one up hereish? i do want to drop into abel's inbox sometime soon.....

[affal]

( stop!!!!!!

no, stop that too. empathy is almost as bad. it holds within it the arrogance of a stranger to completely infer the shape and scope of another's life through the imperfect lens of their words.

so, yes, honestly?? hiding in a little corner of the cavern and allowing the Kenoma his anger to blister his skin and his anguish to curdle his guts? probably preferable to having to stomach too many more of abel's shounen platitudes, tbh... it makes the slight pivot in the track of their conversation amenable, even if the creep of the Kenoma within his own body continues its inexorable crawl. he musters a light chuckle at the subject of abel's gossip's expense (sorry, hubert). ) Yes — or I believe so. There are a few I can think of that fit that description.

( eustace, gen, silco, and that's just naming a few... he's certain he can recall more, if by sight if not by name.

he hums, the sound of it already exhausted. ) I suppose so. ( a beat, and then he confides, ) I have never been good at simply abiding. But there is even less we can do here than we could previously, so... ( his voice drifts off, because there's little else he can say about it. )

yes sure!! that sounds good to me... exciting 🤗

[inutilis]

[ oh, Makoto...

there is something in the way that "M"'s voice drifts off that has something in Abel's chest tightening, some delicate but profound tug of sympathy. he feels it, too-- the sense of helplessness in the face of their circumstances, circumstances that have only managed to get increasingly worse as time progressed. who thought that being rebirthed through a crystal cocoon, shaking off the nightmarish vision of the death of your universe was just the beginning...?

troubling times indeed.

...but Abel senses something weary in his company, and he doesn't want to overstay his welcome. Makoto is right, after all - whether they like it or not, they will be sharing one another's proximity for the foreseeable future, and whatever that... disgusting... sludge holds in store for them, they'll need their strength. so he gently - and with care to be gentle in his approach - rests his hand at Makoto's shoulder to give it a tiny squeeze as he makes a move to lumber to his feet. ]

If all that's left is for us to endure, then you already know my favored method of weathering the worst, mm? [ gross as it is... y'know. ] Should you find you in need of a little company, then... please come and find me, Mr. M. Alright?

[ he doubts the demon will take him up on the offer-- just a hunch. but the offer is an earnest one. the thought of Makoto suffering alone through whatever the shivering, unpleasant whisper in of Abel's skull promises is coming-- that is almost more nauseating than the taste on the back of his tongue. ]

You'll me doing me a favor, too. And I always repay my debts, I'll have you know...!

[affal]

( the feeling of such desperate helplessness is not an alien one to him; it had become more sparse and sporadic for him in recent years, to be sure, but when he'd first arrived in hell it had accompanied him always a half-step behind. it engenders with itself a sort of frustration that, for makoto, always manifests as aggravation. an anger that would start as a smoldering ember but which would soon use the substance of his soul and the thoughts and feelings the Kenoma would dredge up as its fuel to burn ever hotter and stronger.

it would come in time. as it is now, he merely simmers, too physically and mentally exhausted to be able to do much else.

his shoulder sinks ever-so-slightly beneath the hand that abel places there, and makoto turns his head to eye the older man as he continues. for a second he allows himself the wonder of where people like abel had been in the other nineteen years of his life — it was certainly some sort of statement when hell, full of its demons, had felt a more welcoming place to him after how life on Earth had felt. in these last few years he had convinced himself that most, if not all, people were just as purely self-serving as demons were.

the cynical part of him whispers that it most be some sort of front — it almost always is — but perhaps the rest of him can see that there's too much earnestness inherent in the words and gesture. makoto manages a faint smile; he nods his head.

it's just too bad that it's far too late for him. )

We have that in common, then. ( he never forgets a debt, and he also never forgives a sleight. he doesn't deny him outright, instead pausing before continuing, ) I will have to see how I end up feeling.

Until then - be as well as you can.