[open] you know what your problem is?

[baltimores]

WHO: Amos, any Kenoma
WHAT: Amos rewards himself for being cured of Innocence by going on a depression bender.
WHERE: Throughout Achamoth
WHEN: Towards the end of/after the event
WARNINGS: Depression, self-loathing, a little suicidal ideation, lots of drinking, references to brothels, discussion of domestic violence/sexual assault/prostitution/child prostitution; will update as necessary



[ So, this sucks.

Getting out of Venera as soon as possible had been the only thing on Amos' mind once Misa had forced him out of Innocence's grip. That thing had exploited his vulnerabilities, manipulated him, turned him into a puppet to spread its nonsensical, fucked up somewhat understandable agenda, and he needed to leave immediately, before he fell victim to it again.

His legacy's shrine is one of the closest to Achamoth. Easy.

He had to swim across a lake and spend days walking across farmland in waterlogged boots before he actually made it back to the city. Less easy.

Though for all of the personal discomfort and frustration that brought with it, it was readily ignored by spending that time mentally reviewing everything he did while he was fucked in the head, now that he could with proper context. All of the harm he'd caused, all of the ways he'd refused to listen to reason, being reminded of the fact that all he's really good for is ruining other people's lives. Turns out that sucks.

Then there's the fact that ever since an initial mishap during one of his first days in Achamoth, he's been careful to not go out into the city with his shard exposed — but since anything he'd used to cover it up had ended up getting destroyed in Venera, he has no choice but to subject himself to. This. When he's the last person who should be revered or admired in any way, and now he has no way to avoid it.

The first stop on Amos' list is somewhere that can get him clothed again, courtesy of I don't have any money but I am an Aion can I please just have a shirt now. All subsequent stops are, well... ]


i. so just drinking and fucking

[ Going back to the Citadel isn't even remotely on his mind, certainly not when he's got plenty of self-pity to wallow in.

Amos sticks to the seedier parts of Achamoth, weaving his way through various bars and brothels as the mood strikes him. He still doesn't have any money on him, so it's a whole lot of showing off his shard to get either free booze, comped sex, or serve as a credible IOU (and one that, to the meagre credit he has left, he'll actually fulfil once he's had the chance to get his head back on straight and reacquire finances from the Citadel). It isn't hedonism he's fully sinking into so much as I'm a bad person, I feel like shit, I'm going to do things that physically make me feel less like shit. There are worse coping mechanisms, he figures; if there actually aren't, he doesn't care.

He ignores all communion messages he feels coming through; the best anyone can hope for if they try to reach out to him directly is a tacit acknowledgment that he's still alive, combined with maybe a somewhat hazy impression of his immediate surroundings, if that latter part ends up slipping through.

That, or maybe you just so happen to run into him in some shithole dive bar or upon leaving a brothel.

Either way, there really isn't a whole lot he can do if you end up in physically the same space as him, is there. ]


ii. till they run out of one or the other

[ At some point, he actually does have to go back to the Citadel.

He's clearly worse for the wear when he finally shows back up there, rough around the edges when he finally delivers his report to Xishen — several days late, but who's counting — and then has free reign of... well, not the entire place, but the usual.

Fuck, does he need a shower. And a nap. And maybe another drink, because why the hell not. Even though he may not necessarily look it, Amos is certainly feeling better; otherwise, he wouldn't have ended up back here.

Maybe he's dishevelled, maybe he's finally had the chance to clean up; maybe he's briefly roaming the hallways, maybe he's taking advantage of having his own spacious room again. Either way, he's certainly more receptive to company, having gotten most of... that... out of his system in the city.

Though Amos isn't forgetting how easily led astray he was, all in the name of hurting people, anytime soon. That part still bothers him, but when hasn't that been a regular part of his psyche, anyway. ]


iii. wildcard

[ I'm at arii#6412 or cadiai if we need to talk specifics. ]

Comments

i

[zauneyete]

[ Like Amos, Silco also finds comfort in the dingiest, worst bars in Achamoth. Unlike Amos, he isn't keen on the over-indulgence, but like Amos, seeking out the comfortable and familiar is what one does after... all of that.

The bar is slightly dim, the drinks cheap, and it isn't Silco's usual haunt, but he doesn't want to be found, so he slips in and out of the seedier establishments with ease, reaching out a finger to order a bar, when out of the corner of his eye -- the good one -- he caught sight of Amos. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn it looked like he was trying to beg up a drink -- or maybe that was his imagination.

He hadn't paid attention much to the fact that he'd been gone -- beyond the fact that he hadn't arrived with the rest of them -- but he doubled his order, before he moved through the crowd like a comfortable, old snake, and shook the drink in front of Amos, in greeting. ]

You know... there are likely better ways to get a drink.

[baltimores]

[ Amos has all of the delayed reaction time and pleasant grace of someone truly well inebriated. Silco hadn't been seeing things, though; this was a new bar for Amos — stop whatever of whatever number it ends up being — so he had, indeed, been showing off his shard. Considering the fresh liquor he's got his hand hovering around now, it's been a good strategy.

When Amos did figure out it was Silco, though — the movement of that drink sure helped catch his attention properly — he just reached out, took it, and downed it all in one surprisingly smooth motion. He set the now-empty glass down on the bar top, patted the seat next to him for Silco to sit, missing the first time but getting it right on the second. ]

If you're buying, then sure. [ His words were slurred, but he was also intelligible enough. Amos blinked a few times, trying to reset his vision. ] Don't got anything on me though. So showing 'em what I am is doing the trick.

[ Was he going to regret this later, having outed himself as an Aion to who knows how many members of the general public now? Yes. Who cares? ]

[zauneyete]

[ Silco snorted, but sat. He was not so desperate for drink, but neither was he hurting for the funds to pay for drinks, after all, the only think Silco seemed to purchase with any voracity, was cigars. Speaking of, he pulled one out, put it in his mouth, and clipped it, before he paused. Amos may notice, his other hand never left his pocket. He'd carried the glasses with one hand, too. ]

You don't smoke, do you?

[ He asked, and would he have been kind enough to offer one if Amos said yes? It's possible. He seemed in a way, and people tended to... remember when a kindness was shown their way. Silco looked him over, curious. ]

I didn't see you, when we got back to Achamoth.

[ He said, before he lit his cigar. ] I didn't expect to find you opting to lurk down here in... squalor.

[baltimores]

[ He'd been a bit too far gone to pay that much attention to any of Silco's movements — or lack thereof, in the case of keeping a hand in his pocket, he assumed — but the cigar was a little hard to miss. Amos kept a hand loosely around his glass as he turned his body to face Silco proper before answering. ]

Nope.

[ Normally he might've followed up with something about air quality, how smoking on ships wasn't something one saw too often, but all of that was a little beyond his grasp at the moment. Instead, he just watched with a degree of fascination as Silco lit the cigar before what he'd said next actually sunk in.

He offered up an aborted half-shrug, abandoning the movement when he recognized it threatened to throw him off balance. ]

It's easier being here. [ He was born in squalor, forged by squalor; it's where he belonged, wasn't it? Especially after Venera had reminded him of how there was no hope for him. Not really. He could try to do the right thing and he'd still fuck it up regardless. ] I just... had to get back here as soon as possible. That other place — [ Venera, and how he didn't want to talk about it specifically at all, so why mention it by name — ] fucked with me. I couldn't be there.

[ ... Why was Silco here, actually? If he'd been able to hold onto the thought for longer than a fleeting moment, Amos might have actually asked, considering the other man's attitude; instead, just thinking about Venera had him throwing back maybe half of his glass. Fuck that place. Miserable as his existence was, being here was so much better. ]

[zauneyete]

Right.

[ Venera had been... rather frustrating as a location for Silco as well, although not for the same reasons as Amos. Certainly, the lingering effects of being so close to the Innocent entity still lingered -- his hand missing even now, the crystals slowly growing, but it's still not fast -- but more than that, the sting of being taken by such a thing was what infuriated Silco.

He could imagine something similar happened to many of them, although most weren't drinking themselves into oblivion like Amos was. Whether he was because of the memories that were dredged back up, or because of a close-encounter with the Innocence-entity, he couldn't tell. He also wasn't going to play therapist, either. (As if someone like Silco, who probably desperately needed therapy, would even consider doing so.) ]

It "fucked" with many of us, you know. I'm afraid that doesn't make you very special. [ He took a drink of his own drink, before he set it down, and puffed at his cigar. ] I'm certain they thought you may have defected, since nobody has seen or heard from you.

[baltimores]

[ Silco's words took a moment to register with Amos. When they did, he regarded him flatly. ]

'm right here. All they had to do was look.

[ Duh. Keep up, man.

Amos stared at the top of his glass. Toyed with it, fingertips gripping the top of the rim, palm of his hand hovering over top like an umbrella. Debated taking another drink but for once decided to pace himself a little better, looking back up at Silco instead. ]

I know I'm not special. Fucking thing got in my head, though. Made me do a bunch of shit I never would've done. Fucking turned me into its puppet. [ He inadvertently bared his teeth, something of a growl in his throat, snarl in that last word. ] I had to get out of there before it made me do any more damage.

[ And by his estimates he'd already done plenty. Hence, this — though there was something more sobering about replacing self-pity with righteous anger, if only for a moment. ]

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's fingers tightened around his glass -- just slightly when he bared his teeth, almost growled. His own teeth clenched, his jaw tightened, and as his fingers tapped against the glass, once they loosened slightly.

It's difficult to say whether it's the memory of the Innocent, or something else that draws Silco's ire out, but there is the flash of something on his face. Like a monster lurking underneath the facade he presented to the rest of them. ]

It did that to quite a few people.

[ Silco didn't see it, but he felt it. Those wings trying to lull him into a false sense of security, something trying to wrest itself out of his body. ]

Didn't anyone care to stop it, if it was that bad? We had a method, after all.

[baltimores]

[ Too wrapped up in his own bullshit, Amos missed Silco's reaction — or most of it, at least. That something, though. As inebriated as Amos was, that was impossible to miss. You grew up somewhere that cultivated those kinds of people, put them in power, let them control every aspect of your life, maybe even turned you into one of them—

Like calling to like, as it were. Silco had his attention now. Now, and probably beyond.

That question, though. Amos shook his head in disgust — at the entity that caused all of this, at himself, whatever, both. ]

Fuck if I know. All I could think about was spreading it. It got in my head. Completely took me over. [ Yeah, that's earned him another healthy inhalation of his drink, hasn't it. After a pause Amos set his glass back down, maybe a third of it still with something in it. ] The second I could think for myself again, I left. Wasn't going to let it do that again.

[zauneyete]

Probably a more logical reaction than some, then.

[ He said, and it's not... entirely with malice. There had been some, like Bunny, who voiced his want to go back out, to do more, even though he admitted he had spread it to others. It's interesting, and he wonders if there is something to that -- if there's something to who it was that wanted to spread it, or... on the opposite side... Silco shoved his arm a little deeper into his pocket.

He feels something, nagging at the back of his mind. As if he looked a little closer at Amos, he could almost tell... something. He stares, unblinking, although with the one eye, it never blinked. It's less unnerving, if one is used to Silco. ]

I don't think any of us intend to let... That get so bad again. Personally, if I could rip the life from it personally, I would.

[ That monster again, but with that genteel veneer. ]

[baltimores]

[ Now that Silco had his full attention, Amos' eyes followed that movement with his pocketed arm. No clue what that was about, if it meant he had something in there — valuable, for protection — or what.

But it wouldn't be relevant unless Silco decided to bring it out, and as easy as it was to let his anger lap away at him, Amos was still a bit too drunk to care about what happened that far into the future. Instead he just looked back up, and... yeah, the eye thing was fucking weird.

Whatever. The words that followed were far more important, and Amos felt that curl to his lip again, borne of disgust. ]

I don't even know what the fuck it was. Just heard a voice telling me to do all that shit. It felt like it was everywhere. It made sense at the time.

[ And that was what was so dangerous about it, wasn't it. The way it completely took over his way of thinking.

The rage that came with remembering all of that felt good, actually. ]

I don't know how you kill something like that, but yeah, I want to take it the fuck out.

[zauneyete]

[ Silco nodded. ] So do many of us.

I should think... that it will be less formidable, now.

[ Silco said, echoing the Regent's words. He was glad he asked, after all, how to put an end to the vile thing. All they needed to do was get them to break their promise, and it would have no choice, would it? Silco's fingers clenched against the glass, then. ]

Not something that can be done lightly, mind you. [ He added. ] These sorts of things take time, but I, too, want to put an end to That Thing before it surfaces again. I heard no voices, but...

[ Silco's eyes narrowed, again, that sense at the back of his head, vaguely in there, like there's a piece of the puzzle that he was still putting together. What had made it react like that to certain people? ] I heard others that weren't told to do things, but their infections progressed quickly, violently.

[ He couldn't forget those bleeding wounds and feathers, the way he'd stiffened, and turned to stone. Those feathers, those fingers trying to pull out of him, like he was nothing more than a vessel.

He set his glass down, and ran a hand through his hair. ]

But good. I want to know who hates that thing enough to kill it, if we need to.

[baltimores]

[ Everything Silco was describing was so far away from what he'd experienced. If he hadn't heard any voice, he probably would've been none the wiser about anything going on. Everything had seemed normal — creepy, and lifeless, but normal — right up until he'd heard something telling him that he could help others— ]

Nothing about it was violent.

[ It slipped out of him, quiet and almost wistful, before Amos realized what he was saying. Everything had been so peaceful, like nothing he'd ever known before, and he had craved it. Even as it had reshaped his body. Even as it had made him weak, slow—

Amos involuntarily shivered, remembering the feeling of too many wings, too massive and heavy to do anything with, sprouting from his back. His grip on his glass tightened, and he threw the rest of it back before he did anything else stupid.

Nothing about it had been violent, but. Amos pushed the now-empty glass away from him, screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, violence being the only thing he could think about. It felt almost like coming home. ]

How do you kill a disembodied voice. [ It was a question, but barely, coming out flat and pissed. ] Give me something to fight and I'll beat it until it doesn't get back up. Can't do shit to a voice in my head.

[zauneyete]

Oh, that's the key, isn't it?

[ Silco asked, a tip of his head. ]

It wasn't just a voice. There's a being in there, and it can manifest. We all saw it. [ It had tried to rip out of Silco, used him like a portal to reality, used his body like it could just make him feel calm, and that would be enough to soothe his soul of the monster he had, simmering below the surface.

Oh no, no. The fact that it had gotten close was the real transgression.

A finger tapped against the glass, ran against it, considering. He wouldn't admit it, not to these types. Not just because it rankled, made him furious that he would be taken over -- but because if there was something to exploit within him, he needed to excise it, take it, pull it apart, and let it wither and die.

There was no other answer to that. ]

Don't you worry, about it being a voice. Next we see it, I'll make sure that there won't be any question what you need to... beat up.

[ Or at least, worse comes to worse...Silco rubbed his thumb against his middle and index finger, after he set down his glass. There were ways to motivate. ]

[baltimores]

[ There's a being in there, and that's when Amos opened his eyes, looking right back into Silco's own. While the muscles in his arms remained tensed, his jaw relaxed. And while his anger remained comfortable to sit in, nest in, it was less consuming. Not now, not with the promise that he would be able to do something about it.

He wouldn't be left helpless. Unless. ]

If there's some way to keep it out of my head, then I'll rip that thing apart until there's nothing left.

[ And Amos wasn't the kind of guy who said shit for the sake of it. He didn't know if it was the booze, the anger, or what, but it was like there was a new strength coursing through him. Tearing something limb from limb suddenly seemed plausible, and this thing deserved it.

It had taken him over, too.

Amos levelled Silco a gaze, less trying to gauge the other man's commitment — he was pretty sure he was committed — and more trying to tell him that he was right there with him. They may not have known each other that well. A part of him may have still been reminding Amos of another man he'd beaten to death with his bare hands. But if Silco had a plan to kill this thing then Amos would do whatever part he needed to play, no questions asked. ]

[zauneyete]

[ Silco nodded, in understanding. He was on his rare second drink of the night, after all. He'd been affected by that Thing as well. Perhaps not as violently as Amos -- or he hadn't ran like he did -- but he could understand it, at the very least. If he'd been so affected that he'd wanted to spread it like that, it's not surprising that he'd want to get out.

Silco had only had violent, physical changes. They happened fast -- leaving him bleeding and shivering, and he hated it. Oh, he did. At least they could give back the misery that it had given them. ]

Good.

[ He said it with some finality. He wouldn't let Amos in on the planning stage, but he at least knew that it was personal for him. If it was personal for him, then he would throw everything he had in it. People like Amos, who lived with their fists and fury, knew nothing else. Silco had known someone at one time, before --

Well. It didn't matter. They were dead, twice over, and they'd hung up such fury long ego. Although only after trying to choke the life out of Silco. ]

I'll be in touch about it, hm? Until then...drink to your hearts content, I suppose.

[ After all, Silco wasn't going to stop him from settling into his cups. He could care less about that. ]

[baltimores]

[ They were on the same page then. They understood each other. That was good.

Amos watched him a moment longer before giving him a nod, already raising a hand to wave the bartender down again. He'd stopped counting whatever drink number it was that he was on a while ago — and now, he was worked up enough to know he wasn't about to sleep it off any time soon. ]

I'll be around.

[ Which was about as committal as Amos could be in that state. He didn't know where he was going to go after this, when he would go back to the Citadel, any of it. Just... he would be around. If Silco found him once before, he could probably just find him again when he needed to.

Amos turned back to face the bartender, letting his anger simmer back into the background. It wasn't going to go anywhere. Never really did. ]