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

[epiprocta]

-- what, you thought I'd fall over myself in gratitude because you acknowledged being fake?

[ The retort comes prompt and vicious, each word spat out hot with anger, but it's in sharp contrast to the way Gen's posture flags -- he falls back a half-step even as he continues to glower at Ernesto.

Regardless of how hot his temper burns, it can't quite trump his deterioriating physical condition, it seems. ]

I know people like you.

[ Fake, he means. His anger's briefly cut through with a frisson of hurt and betrayal and fear, but not surprise. In fact, Ernesto's admission of being 'pretty fake' is met with the sort of furious apprehension that comes from recognition and familiarity. Like the bristling of an animal that's been hurt before. ]

Acting nice, saying whatever you need to get what you want, then dropping it all as soon as you get what you want. Why the hell should anyone trust anything coming out of your mouth?

[goldendeceiver]

[ The words might be cutting, but Ernesto doesn't feel particularly threatened as long as the attack stays purely verbal. As weak and miserable as he's feeling he doesn't have it in him to get into a pointless fight.

Being someone's emotional punching bag probably isn't that productive either, and Gen might have actually been able to get rid of Ernesto for a bit, if it weren't for those spike of other feelings breaking through the anger. The realization flickers across Ernesto's face, brows pulling together as the smallest possible frown twitches at the corner of his mouth.

So that's it, huh? It's not like Ernesto can really fully understand Gen from flashes of raw emotion like this, but it's enough to give some things away.

It also makes Ernesto wonder if he shouldn't have been so upfront with the kid in their first meeting. It seemed like it was better to be honest and save time then, but now he's wondering if he unnecessarily soured things... with honesty.

"Lie more" probably isn't the lesson that Ernesto should be learning from this.

Either way, he'll give Gen a curious looking, managing to school his expression and body language pretty well for a guy who feels like absolute shit thanks to the uncontrolled emotions that Gen is unwittingly assaulting him with. ]

Sounds like you've dealt with someone pretty awful in the past...

[ He sighs, and as if he can't help himself, a smile slips back onto Ernesto's face. ]

But I don't think you know me nearly as well as you think you do. I'm not whoever it is you're comparing me to.

[epiprocta]

[ 'Lie more' definitely isn't the lesson that Ernesto should be taking away from this experience, but really, who's having a good time with personal growth under these circumstances? Gen certainly isn't. Because even as he's offered those kindly words accompanied by that gracious smile, his takeaway isn't so much 'wow, people are capable of being caring' so much as it's 'wow, whatever they made me drink is really messing with my head'. ]

... I know that.

[ Even that lame retort seems to take a lot out of him, each word dragged out arduously. ]

I know -- I know you're not her. 'm not ... an idiot. I know that.

[ Still, the simple reminder that Ernesto isn't whoever he's thinking about seems to snap him to his senses somewhat, pulling him from the vicious downward spiral of his memories. -- right. This place isn't his hometown, and everything is different. Even if this guy's a lying, conniving, smiling asshole, he's a different fake, and he knows it. So why is it growing so hard to keep his thoughts straight? How badly is that potion fucking with him?

His posture, already unsteady, crumbles further as his anger flags. And it certainly doesn't help that the adrenaline rush of fury can only go so far in letting him ignore the bruises he's been accumulating. Probably unsurprising that he comes to just sit down on the ground after a few more moments of quiet seething, his energy spent for now.

Though that doesn't stop him from glowering blearily at Ernesto past the sweat-damp tangle of his hair and spitting, ]

-- at least stop smiling. When you're saying that shit.

[goldendeceiver]

[ The unsteadiness has Ernesto tensed and poised ready to do something stupid, and try and catch Gen before he falls. It seems like it'll end poorly with how angry this boy is, but he doesn't really want to see someone already this battered taking a bruising fall.

So when Gen sits down, he visibly relaxes a little, even as he stays standing himself. The way the anger that's been rolling off of Gen seems to dampen also does a lot to help Ernesto relax. Now he only has to deal with the symptoms he was already dealing with from the ritual's poison! You know, rather than bearing the burden of someone else's emotional turmoil as well.

He'll give Gen a little physical space for now though, realizing that his brand of comfort is entirely unwelcome at this moment.

Though that last one is a big ask, and it actually takes Ernesto a few seconds to stop smiling, like he really has to consciously think about it to make himself make what should be a neutral expression. ]

Aha... I guess it is kind of weird thing to smile during.

[ But look! The smile is gone now, and he's just looking at Gen curiously. ]

I'm going to go ahead and guess you don't want to talk about all of what just happened there, but whether you want to trust me or not, I'm not actually out to get you either.

[epiprocta]

[ ... there's definitely something wrong with this guy. It's a bleary thought that crosses his mind as he watches Ernesto seem to give that simple demand a considerable amount of thought before executing it. Like he's grown so used to smiling that it's harder not to. Gen squints dubiously before muttering under his breath, almost more to himself than to Ernesto: ]

The hell's wrong with you.

[ -- but still. Having his demand met seems to go far in pacifying Gen's raging temper. With that tiny amount of control over the situation attained, he finally starts to settle down, even if it's with some reluctance.

He coughs, swallows thickly, rubs a hand over his face as he tries to fight off a persistent wave of nausea and dizziness. Sits back, staring at the ground for a moment as he gathers his scattered thoughts. And then finally looks back up to Ernesto. His gaze is still resentful and cautious, not unlike a wild animal staring from the far corner of a cage, but at least it's lost its edge of active hostility. For now. ]

What is there to even talk about.

[ And ah, of course. Having been the perpetrator of that one-sided onslaught of emotional baggage, he's yet to understand exactly what's going on. After all, the thought of his own memories and emotions being directly broadcast to another person is patently ridiculous. Like there would be any way for that sort of fantasy nonsense to actually happen. ]

[goldendeceiver]

[ Gen really isn't making it easy on him right now, because that derisive question has Ernesto biting back a sheepish laugh. It's a fair enough question when he's smiling and acting friendly in a place like this. It's not like his act really will do much to make things better for the people around him either, but...

At the same time getting angry or falling into a depression doesn't seem like it'll help any more either. In a lot of ways it's easier to stick to what he knows, and find some small comfort in the familiarity in his habits.

Like lying, which is what Ernesto is going to opt to do here right now. After the outburst that he just had to deal with, telling Gen that he saw that vision of eyes, or felt his whirlwind of misery seems like the worst choice he could possibly make. He doesn't even bat an eyelash before responding in a casual and dismissive way. ]

I guess not much in the end.

[ Sorry to whoever Gen finds the truth out from later. Gen was right to call Ernesto a coward, because he's absolutely not taking the brunt of this kid's anger when he learns about that emotion leak.

His frown deepens as he looks at Gen sitting on the cavern floor. ]

Sit tight for a second. Whether you want me to or not, I'm going to be back in a few minutes.

[ And before he can hear more protests he's walking away towards the guards to...?

To do something. He didn't explain himself, and by the time he reaches them he's out of hearing range. ]

[epiprocta]

[ And there's that annoying smile again. Gen promptly scowls, about to mumble some petulant comment about how he knows Ernesto's probably hiding, so what's the point of acting chipper and friendly. Except he gets cut off before he can even start voicing that thought. ]

What --

[ Worn out as he is raging impotently at whoever was within rage, Gen's a beat too slow to process Ernesto's request-cum-order, and only manages a half-hearted protest before the other's run off out of earshot. What the hell. And while it's not like he wants to do as he's told ...

When Ernesto returns, Gen's gone from where he'd been sitting. But only because he'd been too exhausted to stay sitting upright on his own anymore, while also too proud to keel over on the ground in plain sight. Ernesto need only look around for a moment to spot Gen where he's dragged himself over to the nearest wall to slump against it, head ducked and posture lax.

Definitely having a fitful, uneasy little doze, judging by the slower rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes in deeper rasps.

It's not until he hears the pad of Ernesto's footsteps drawing closer that he snaps away with a start, promptly raising his head with a look of bleary caution on his face. Sounding a little groggy and hoarse as he mumbles, ]

Why'd you want me to wait.

[ Gen's definitely more docile now that his burst of anger's petered off, and the look he gives Ernesto is mostly just sullen. Resting his head back against the wall, he squints past him at the guards. Mostly gauging when to give them another go, evident in the way he listlessly rubs at his scuffed and bruised arm. ]

[goldendeceiver]

[ Cut him a little slack, Gen. He's making an attempt here. It's a hard one for him too, but at least the time that Ernesto is busy trying to make a deal with the guards means that Gen gets a break from him too.

Seems he used that break "productively" as well. Ernesto spots his new spot on his walk back over, though it does take a moment of puzzled sweeping the area to see where the boy has dragged himself. Maybe Gen will be the one on the receiving end of emotions this time, and notice that slight spike of worry for a second.

Or maybe he's at least resting just heavily enough to miss it. That would certainly be fair too, especially since the feeling promptly disappears the minute Ernesto's gaze falls on him.

Taking great pains to not automatically smile in response to the flat question, Ernesto carefully lowers himself into a squat in front of Gen, placing in front of the boy a small container of water, and a little food folded up in a cloth napkin. ]

No questions this time. I'm not looking to get anything out of you for these.

[epiprocta]

[ He somehow both is and isn't surprised to see what Ernesto brings back. Is, because he knows he's hardly done anything to endear himself to anyone, let alone enough to be offered any help. And isn't, because people here seem to be the meddlesome sort -- people just aren't like this back in his hometown, must less to him.

Gen looks from Ernesto, to the water, then back up; cautious, like he's expecting some dreadful caveat, even if his desire for it is betrayed in the way his gaze had lingered for a moment too long. And while it's probably expected that he doesn't graciously accept that too-generous offer like a more sensible person would, he doesn't immediately swat it away, either.

Instead, Gen lets his head rest back against the wall, regarding Ernesto quietly for a moment before asking dourly, ]

What's your deal.

[ That pang of worry had been partly why he jerked awake. And though he hasn't quite connected the dots just yet, Gen had at least seen the tinge of genuine concern in Ernesto's expression as he looked around, followed by a hint of relief when he'd been spotted. Which doesn't make sense, really. What kind of person goes through all that trouble for a virtual stranger, someone who'd just been screaming at them? ]

D'you just wanna be liked by everyone or something? S'that why you're always smiling like that?

[goldendeceiver]

[ Ernesto rests his hands in his lap, making it clear that he's not about to snatch his offerings back from Gen. He got those for the boy, and he's not the take-backsies sort. Here's to hoping that Gen doesn't decide to waste what precious few supplies they're given in a fit of pride and anger though.

The question gives him pause though, ears perking up for a moment, before Ernesto looks up at the stone ceiling above them. It's a little hard to really explain what his deal is without talking more about himself than he's comfortable doing. ]

I wouldn't mind being on everyone's good side, though I get the feeling you've decided you won't like me no matter what I do.

[ He looks back at Gen now. ]

But the smiling is unrelated.

[ Just a quick flash of one, before he lets his expression fall back to something almost neutral. ]

You're overthinking my motivations right now though.

[epiprocta]

[ As brash as he is, Gen's not completely blind to the gravity of the situation; he still makes no move to accept the precious supplies, but he's also being careful not to knock it over, either. He just doesn't want to accept them before he understands the reason behind this needless generosity.

Case in point, he squints at Ernesto for way too long in the face of that genial response, trying to force his exhausted brain to figure out what this mysterious motivation that he's overthinking is. It takes far too much effort for him to reach even a tenuous conclusion. ]

... what, is it because I'm younger than you?

[ That had truly, completely slipped his mind for a while. Everything he'd been dealing with immediately before ending up here and after crawling out of that cocoon had been unrelated to his age, and it only now occurs to him now that some of the people here might still see him as a minor.

Ridiculous.

Gen huffs a derisive sigh, too tired to be a dismissive laugh, as he sinks back against the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. Blinks wearily before looking at Ernesto once more. ]

As if any of that matters in this sort of place.

[goldendeceiver]

[ Ernesto tilts his head to the side as he takes a better look at Gen now, considering that question a little more seriously than he probably should, given he already knows that isn't his reason. (Also regardless of what Gen might think about Ernesto's animal features, those ears to flop in a way that definitely looks like real dog ears.) ]

You do look like you're probably around the same age as my little sister.

[ He's no expert on ages, but he'd peg him as being in his older teens. He doesn't look like he's hit his twenties yet. ]

But honest, it has nothing to do with that. Both of the times I've seen you, it just seems like you're having a particularly rough time.

[ He shrugs both of his shoulders now. God... it's so hard to not immediately slip right back into a smile when saying these things. ]

That's it.

[epiprocta]

[ ... okay, so he has no good immediate retort for that.

And, conceding his defeat on that one point, he relents. Finally, Ernesto's rewarded for all his hard work suppressing that fake smile, because Gen gives him one more sideways glance, brow furrowed -- as if daring him to laugh -- before finally taking the water.

It's obvious at a glance how badly he'd needed it. He takes a tentative sip at first before ending up gulping the rest down, his body terribly eager for the chance to sate his parched throat. When he finally comes up breathless and coughing, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he looks a little more focused and lucid. ]

-- not like it's your responsibility.

[ Which means now he has a retort to give, but the venom drained from his voice. He's clearly still trying to figure Ernesto out, but when he sighs it's listless and tired. ]

I picked those fights, so what happens is my responsibility. [ He's still not touching the food, resting his head against the wall once more as he looks at Ernesto. ] I'm not so weak I need help from all you meddlers. You and everyone else here like you, sticking your nose where you don't need to.

[goldendeceiver]

[ He won't laugh, he won't even smile at Gen drinking that water. It's still hard, because he is relieved that the boy is actually finally taking the offerings, but this seems like a strangely delicate situation. Gen doesn't seem like he's going to be endearing himself to the guards any time soon, and supplies are scarce enough already.

Gen is right that it's not actually Ernesto's responsibility to look out for anyone here, but... ]

It's not really a matter of being weak.

[ He presses a hand against his chin, trying to think of the best way to put this. ]

If you pick a fight with the guards, and they smack you around, I don't plan to lift a single finger to help you.

[ He drops his hand away from his face, and shrugs.

There. Honesty. Hopefully Gen likes hearing it. ]

Not unless it looks like they're taking it too far, but I'd want to put a stop to it no matter who I saw it happening to. I'd kind of hope that someone would do the same for me.

[ He tilts his head a little, studying Gen closely. ]

I'm not sure you'd be the type that would, but it's fine. I'm not expecting it from you.

[ Pointing to the still untouched food. ]

I'm also not expecting you to come find me and bring me supplies later if I'm looking rough, but who knows? Someone might. We're in a pretty bad situation right now, and even if you want to think of yourself as an island in all of this, you're not.

So I see a guy who is making trouble for himself, and probably pissing off the guards enough that he's more likely to get skipped over when supplies are being dolled out. I don't know him personally, but I feel for him whether he wants me to or not. It's not my responsibility, but that's fine. I've already been stripped of comfort and dignity, so I might as well hold onto a little empathy if that's all I have left.

[ With a small grunt, Ernesto finally hoists himself back up into a standing position. ]

You don't have to eat that if you don't want to, but consider passing it onto someone else who will. No point in wasting food.

[epiprocta]

[ He does appreciate the honesty. It's the chief reason he remains docile and patient, listening quietly to everything Ernesto has to say. His exhaustion, as great as it is, is only a supplementary reason; if he'd gotten the sense that he was being condescended or lied to he would have tried to take a swing at Ernesto regardless of his physical condition.

But Ernesto sounds sincere enough, and so he listens. Takes in everything he's being told while flatly meeting that clear-eyed gaze, not really reacting to anything nor looking away. He waits until Ernesto finish and heaves himself back up into standing position before answering, ]

It's not worth it. Trying to help people.

[ Perhaps surprisingly there's no anger in those words. Gen says it like it's just a statement of fact, something that he knows to be an indelible truth.

Now, finally, he averts his gaze. ]

Not just me. [ Because, like, obviously there's nothing for Ernesto to gain here. That assumption was largely correct -- Gen won't interfere even if, sometime down the line, he might happen upon Ernesto getting caught in the wrong place at the wrong time or something and earning the guard's ire. ... probably. ] In general. Trying so hard to do things for people doesn't pay off.

[ (It hadn't for him.)

It seems for a moment like he's said his piece and he's done, but Gen abruptly picks up the food -- to hold it out for Ernesto to take back, his knuckles bumping lightly against the other's stomach. ]

I don't want this, so take it back if you don't want it wasted. [ Notably, he's taking care to grip that precious morsel of food carefully, so as to keep it intact. Because even if he's still keeping Ernesto at (more than an) armslength, he'll do the absolute minimum to abide by Ernesto's request as repayment for the water. Nothing more, nothing less. ] I'm no good at that bullshit -- playing nice and coddling people. Give it to someone else.

[goldendeceiver]

[ Ernesto is still for a moment, and it's hard to tell if he's actually going to take the food back or not. Several long seconds pass, before with a sigh, Ernesto reaches over and slowly extracts the food from Gen's grip.

There's any number of reasons that Gen could be returning this to him beyond a rejection of his "coddling" too. Ernesto knows how nauseous being hit by Gen's emotions had made him feel. He also knows how little food he's been able to eat since the ritual began.

Though even if it is just because he hates being helped, there's no point in not respecting the kid's wishes. He doesn't think Gen is all bad, but he does seem to have a pretty explosive temper. It's hard to tell what a refusal to take the food back would be met with, and there's not enough of this to go around to let it be wasted by someone's fit of rage.

Looking down at the food in his hand for another few seconds, he finally turns his attention back to Gen, a small frown on his face. ]

You know, I've actually thought the same thing most of my life. Maybe not to the same extreme, but I didn't see much point in helping strangers. Not if there wasn't some kind of benefit in it.

[ He laughs through his nose, just one corner of his lips twitching up now. ]

Seeing someone in action who didn't think that way though... I guess it was kind of eye opening for me. Sorry though, I'm not anywhere near as inspiring as her.

[ It's a full smile now. Gen's just going to have to bare with it for a second longer. ]

But I hope sometime you can meet someone who makes you feel people might be worth helping out after all. Even if you don't, try and take care of yourself.

[ And with a little salute with his free hand, Ernesto will turn and make his slow leave. ]