aionlogs | [open] you know what your problem is?

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[open] you know what your problem is?

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He's surprisingly agreeable, though maybe he wouldn't be if he were sober. She nods quickly with relief. It's hard to say why she's so invested in keeping him away from the bottle when he'll easily be able to turn around and go straight back to it once their mission is complete. ]

They might have some at the store.

[ Luckily, she has the ample budget to accommodate. ]

I grew up in the mountains. It was difficult for merchants to make their way up to us, so we had to be self-sufficient.

[ She realizes now that most people don't live that way, that for many, food only exists as neatly packaged ingredients cooked up into nicely presented plates. It's a little strange to her, but maybe that's just what it means to live in civilization. ]

It was common for everyone to help out by tending the chicken coop or gathering the wool. In the city... I sometimes feel that it's hard to be able to do things with your neighbors in the same way.

[ Oh, yeah, as soon as she doesn't need his help anymore he'll just go right back at it. In the meantime, though, it costs him nothing to try to be a decent person. Worse, he'd hate himself all the more if he'd just blown her off, so this is also something he kinda has to do.

Not that he minds. The alternative to agreeable really isn't worth it. ]

Mountains, huh. Never really been to one before. [ It's an idle thought, his mind latching onto whatever, a little bit behind everything else she's saying... ] I get being self-sufficient though. You can get that in the city, just... different. Like your neighbours don't give a fuck about you, so really, all you can rely on is yourself.

[ It's not the same, but he's more latching onto themes than anything else, and in that way, it. It kinda is. Less a resources issue — though he knows plenty about that too, just in a different way — more in a the world doesn't care, so it's all up to you kind of way. And that, he knows all too well. It's kinda part of the reason they need to end everything, burn it all down.

... Which will have to wait for later, because looking up, Amos is pretty sure that might be a pet store up ahead. Or at least, it looks like what he figures one would... how many other stores have paw print imagery? ]

Think that's one over there. [ He gestures loosely — and inaccurately, but, close enough — with his arm. ] I can... [ what is he offering... ] You think you need any more help? Picking out stuff, or showing me a cat... or... whatever.

[ Yeah he's doing great. At least he's got the spirit. ]

[ Gray isn't totally sure she and Amos are on the same page about self-sufficiency, but it does say something about his point of view. She doesn't think he's completely wrong, either. City life is constantly full of momentum, she feels, and people who are always on the move have less time to stop for the people around them. There's something to be admired about people who are determined to stay busy, but there can be a coldness to them too.

In any case, it looks like they've managed to find a pet store. Gray perks up at the sight of it, then looks over at Amos with gentle confusion at his question before remembering that she shouldn't try too hard to make sense of him right now. ]

... Yes, please. You can come in too.

[ The pet store is cute and friendly, especially by Achamoth's aesthetic standards, and it turns out there are some puppies tumbling around in the window display. It's a modestly-sized store, but jam-packed with rows of food and tanks of small animals for sale. Gray pads in and begins to cruise the few aisles for suitable cat treats. Though she's been swallowed up by the shelves, she calls out softly to Amos. ]

You can pick out anything you like.

[ Alright, then. She technically doesn't need him anymore, but he's as suggestible as ever and even less likely to question things given his inebriated state, so he just follows her in. Maybe she'll pick out something big and he'll need to carry it for her, who knows.

And promptly gets lost staring at anything remotely unusual (which, considering how he's never had a pet in his life, is kinda... most things in here), so Gray's voice is a welcoming beacon. ]

Don't got any pets... don't think there's anything for me here.

[ Except, well, her. He looks up, around, eventually finds the aisle she's in. And, at least for this part, he's got enough wits about him to not broadcast his voice. ]

Don't even got any money on me. [ And while he's been more than content to push his Aion status as a means to get free drinks or sex, something about being in a pet store has him not wanting to do that. ] I dunno. You're the boss here.

[ He really is just along for the ride. Doesn't even occur to him to question how long this particular ride has been going for him, though. Not like it's anything bad... He just likes her, is all. Has been happy to let Gray lead the way. It's really as good a use of his time as anything else. ]

[ His answer knocks at a strange door in her subconsciousness, and with a start she realizes why that is: his subservience is a lot like hers, a placid following without question or desire, safe with the will of the other person. It isn't anything unusual in itself, but she can safely say that she's never been the person captaining a venture. It's completely alien to her that someone else would place themselves in her hands in this way, let alone a near stranger. She wonders if other people feel this way about her, wondering why she would want to tag along so obediently.

Maybe it feels especially strange because of his tough-looking exterior — though she knows not all people can be judged by their appearances. It just feels a bit like a boar willing to be led along by a rabbit.

She thought he might be interested in any interesting-looking toys, but since he isn't, she just plucks up a catnip toy on a small mock fishing rod along with a bag of dried meat treats. After a quick chat with the store owner, Gray easily hands over the necessary jools and comes away with the treats and the toy, and makes sure Amos is still following along before heading out. She begins to lead them toward the looming Citadel, where she knows some friendly cats roam. ]

My name is Gray, by the way. I don't think I've thanked you yet for helping me.

[ He really is content to just be her shadow. It's how his life has gone, albeit maybe not exactly like this: find someone good and let them lead you. It's also something he's been lacking since Venera, but to slip back into the old, familiar pattern might actually be a good thing for him. Amos is still fucked up, still not ready to properly face reality again, but it's like dipping his toe back in the water and thinking yeah, I can do this later, even if the timing isn't right yet.

So he passively watches her as she makes her selections, then passively follows her out. To him, the Citadel is nothing more than a vague shape looming in the distance; he knows he doesn't want to go there yet, but in its direction is fine. Kinda feels like it's everywhere sometimes.

Ugh. Later he'll go back there proper—

Oh. He blinks down at Gray, confused, like he didn't expect to be thanked.

After a moment probably a little longer than would've been socially acceptable, ] Amos. I— [ wasn't doing anything anyway. Didn't really do anything. Am kind of just a selfish asshole— ] don't mind. 's no problem.

[ Her hood tips curiously at his odd pause(s), but she otherwise just nods and lets a comfortable silence lapse between them as they amble along. She scans the streets slowly for signs of local catlife, willfully ignoring the eyes of the citizens that look their way.

It takes a longer time than she would have liked to drag a new acquaintance around for, but in the end she finally spots a friend in the distance; she curves away from the main road and down a quiet thoroughfare. She slows, her footsteps becoming delicate and her voice even softer as she approaches a black cat sitting on a brick partition, its round blue eyes watching them approach curiously. ]

Okay, Mr. Amos... Ah — have you ever met a cat before?

[ It sounds silly, but it needs to be asked... ]

[ Amos is pretty much blind to anyone else's gaze, the result of being both too inebriated to notice and a natural disposition that he wouldn't care anyway. Gray's kinda the only person in his orbit now, so he'll keep following her until that's no longer something to be done. There's a second or two of delay when she switches directions for him to pick up on following her, but he does, his pace slowing alongside hers.

And then he's left staring at the cat. And, upon her voice softening, he lowers his as well to a soft sort of drawl. ]

Not in a really long time.

[ Probably decades, at least.

But even if he isn't entirely familiar with cat behaviour, he knows what it means for him to be, well, him. That he can be an imposing figure, even without meaning to. So he makes sure to keep himself rooted just a step behind Gray, not moving but for the occasional blink, eyes fixed on the cat's otherwise. ]

Ah...

[ With her hands full, she makes do with delicately waving the toy fishing rod in Amos's line of sight in an attempt to divert his attention. As a bonus, the cat seems interested as well... ]

S-So, you don't want to make direct eye contact with him... because cats can find that aggressive. It's better if you act disinterested and let him come to us first.

[ Gray feels the intimidation of direct eye contact on a cellular level. Maybe it's why she gets along with most animals. ]

I've met this cat before, so I think he'll come over soon. We just have to be a little patient.

[ She sets the treats on the floor and hunkers down at a crouch. After a moment, she beckons for Amos to join her. ]

[ Waving the toy works, the movement catching Amos' gaze. When she essentially explains why she did that, there's an internal wince on his part; he'd fucked up.

Though at least it was in a way that didn't actually hurt anybody, so he's not going to beat himself up over it. A quick glance, and the cat's still there. And again, Gray's movement catches his gaze, and he slowly — gingerly — lowers himself to a crouch beside her, choosing to look at the treats instead.

His voice is soft when he speaks again, like he's concerned he'll scare the cat off; is taking steps to ensure he doesn't. ]

I can do patient. [ Hell, he's proving pretty good at following all of her directions; no reason why this one would be an exception. ] You've met him before... You're really good with animals, huh?

[ It's less a question, more a compliment. Everything he's seen and from what she's told him, yeah, she's good with animals. That's a field he's probably never gonna know, so it only makes sense to give credit where it's due. ]

[ She isn't sure if she'd say she's especially proficient with animals — maybe just average compared to everyone else in her home village. But to someone who has very little experience with animals overall, she can see how she might seem good with them. Another little idiosyncracy about city living. She concedes, ]

Better than I am with people, at least.

[ Animals are straightforward. Anyone can learn to read an animal with enough time and intent, including Amos, she's sure. Meanwhile, human beings are shifting and complicated, turning their faces in a hundred configurations like Rubik's cubes. She feels like people rarely even understand themselves. ]

Animals... they just want to be safe. In their minds, every person is capable of killing them. Since they don't understand words, they have to find clues about people in other ways. They see the things most people don't think about. Things like the quality of your footfalls... the shape of your posture... the path you take to approach... and sometimes even the way you blink.

[ She nods once to herself, the cat toy bobbing playfully on the end of the fishing rod with her motion. ]

There are a lot of emotions in people's everyday behaviors. I think language makes people forget that.

[ He's silent for a long moment, contemplating her words. Hell, between how long it's starting to get since he's had his most recent drink and the subject matter they've stumbled on, he might even be starting to sober up a bit. ]

Think I might relate more to animals than people, then.

[ His voice is still low and gentle, like he's still concerned about scaring the cat, like he's increasingly aware of what someone of his size and appearance represent. Some of that's genetic; some of it's on purpose. They just want to be safe. In their minds, every person is capable of killing them. Amos learned that firsthand, too.

Though he's reasonably confident Gray is not one of those people. He raises his head slightly, eyes shifting towards her, cat still in his peripheral vision so he knows it's at least there, even if it's kinda just a dark blob in the background. ]

I dunno about emotions necessarily, but I get what you mean. Bodies are a lot easier to read than words. Someone says they aren't gonna do something but they tense up, then they probably are kinda thing. It's the one universal language we got.

[ If he thinks about it — when he thinks about it, later, when he's back at the Citadel and properly sober — there's some kind of burgeoning kinship here, isn't there. She's kind. She makes a lot of sense. He gets it. ]

[ She's mostly relieved that he's open to what she's saying, and she realizes suddenly that she's been doing more talking to him than she would normally consider comfortable with a near-stranger. She wonders which of the two of them is more peculiar for getting along with the other.

As she ponders this, there's movement in the corner of her eye: the cat dropping smoothly from its perch so that it can approach them, its soft round gaze flitting curiously between Gray, Amos, and the suspended cat toy. Gray peeks at the cat from around the edge of her hood before wiggling the toy on its line enticingly. The cat's interest is thoroughly piqued, and its gaze sticks to the toy like velcro. Gray makes it dance a little more until the cat gets close enough to bat a pink-beaned paw at it.

Now that the cat has warmed up a little, Gray offers the catnip toy on a stick over to Amos. ]

Do you want to have a try, Mr. Amos?

[ Sometimes you just need someone else who's been through some shit to get along with, right? Though as far as Amos is concerned in this moment, Gray's just someone who needed some help, and now she's the one helping him.

It's actually not at all surprising things would work out that way.

He stays still when the cat approaches them, looking at its paws more than anything else as it steps forward, bats at the toy.

Yeah, she's a good person, he's decided. So it means a lot that she trusted him to help her — that she's trusting him to play with it a little. He looks in her direction, at the toy, at the stick, and after a moment of hesitation, reaches out to take it.

Gives it a little shake, making the toy bob up and down just a little. He really— He really doesn't know if he's doing this right, and just doesn't want to fuck it up, treating this as seriously as he's treated... well... possibly anything. That's partially reflective of his inebriated state, and partially reflective of an inability to prioritize things the way most people know how to do. This is important to Gray, so it's important to him, full stop. ]

[ It's interesting to watch him. She still isn't quite sure how to think of him. Is he her chaperone or the other way around? She doesn't think she's ever seen an adult take something so mundane so seriously. The word "homunculus" comes to mind: artificial humans supposedly crafted and immature, made solely for the purposes of the magi who made them and locked away or sheltered when not in use. She's never met one herself, but she feels that if she did, maybe they would be a bit like Amos.

In any case, she's glad he doesn't seem bored. The cat isn't bored either; it chases the toy as it swings into Amos's care, paying no mind to who's wielding it. It begins to leap and pounce, ramping up its attempts to slap the toy to hell.

As she watches the two of them, she isn't quite sure what possesses her to ask, ]

Do you want to give her a name?

[ In a way, he was born to be a homunculus, so it would be an apt thought. A natural human in every way, only born with very specific purposes in mind, to the point that he'd barely had a chance to become his own person. There's still one in there deep down, it's just... so deep.

And maybe getting to come out more than it would've otherwise — in Gray's presence, as he has success with the cat, all of it. There's more of a spark of life to his eyes as the cat is receptive; more than that, as he increases his efforts to play with it, waving the toy around, bringing it just into reach, out of, back again...

Amos doesn't recognize it in the moment, but he's actually having a good time. Like he's playing with a kid, but animal instincts are so much easier to understand, so.

He stops for a second at Gray's question, letting the cat get the upper hand, really wrap itself around the toy. He gives it a light tug, and it doesn't let go. He thinks about how shy it had been at first, but how that hadn't lasted, and look at them now. ]

Peaches. [ The answer comes before he's even really aware that he's saying anything, but once the name's left his lips, it just feels right. He gives the toy a stronger tug, meets more resistance, finds he's enjoying the self-imposed stalemate. ] I knew a Peaches back home. She was kinda like this.

[ Not as far along in being bold, but. Maybe one day she could've gotten there. With the time that they lost out on when the world ended. ]

[ She watches Amos watching the cat at play with a bubble of satisfaction... which gently pops when he makes an unexpected comment. ]

She was like... this?

[ Rolling around on the ground in ecstasy? Surely not, but she's having difficulty understanding what Amos could mean. Meanwhile, Peaches is happily rubbing her face all over the toy, turning slow circles as she tries to push herself deeper into it. Gray guesses cats do, after all, really love catnip. ]

Peaches... That's a cute name. Who was she?

Friend of mine.

[ He still shakes the toy every now and then, still giving Peaches something to react to. Amos' attention is on her now more than Gray, though really, he just wants both of them to be happy. And making Peaches happy is probably a key to making Gray happy, so that's where his actions lie. ]

She did some bad things, and she hated herself for it. I mean, that was the right call. Meant she felt guilty. But she was real withdrawn and quiet because of it. We got to spend some time together... she kinda became my apprentice, at least up until she had to go to prison. It let me get under her shell, though. See who she really was.

[ His voice is a low, quiet drawl; all he's doing is explaining something, but there's a touch of wistfulness to it. Amos wouldn't say it out loud, wouldn't acknowledge it because he wouldn't know it's there, but he does miss her. ]

I wanted to help her learn how to live with the fact that she'd fucked up pretty bad. Not like your entire life ends just because you make a mistake, even if it's a big one. Not if you feel bad after. So, I was gonna do that. She shied away from most everyone else but we got close. And then the world ended, so it didn't matter anymore.

[ But this Peaches is still here, so he can keep playing with her. That part does matter. ]

[ She listens to his story patiently and with interest, curious to learn more about him. And... as someone who is also quiet and withdrawn and was taken in as an apprentice at a low point in her life, she feels a residual gratitude toward him, a small curl of appreciation that she once reserved for her own master but which has lain lost and dormant until now. It should be a nice feeling, based in fondness as it is, but she only feels a grip of pain in her chest for all the things she never got to say to him and which he never got to accomplish.

She breathes out her sudden melancholy and focuses again on Peaches, who doesn't have a care in the world. At the moment, catnip looks like it must be the most powerful and wonderful substance in the world. ]

What were you teaching her as your apprentice?

[ Amos doesn't really have a care in the world at the moment, either. (Well, he kinda does, but he's sobering up a bit more and... he can handle that at the moment. Just in this moment, though.) Gray's internal journey is imperceptible to him, particularly because aside from conversing with her, all of his attention lies on the cat. ]

Ship mechanic. [ Another pull of the toy, watching Peaches scramble to get up and after it. ] We were out in deep space when she fucked up. My ship got to take her back as prisoner, but that meant we had an extra pair of hands, and she wasn't gonna do anything anymore, so no reason not to put her to work. Especially since she kinda already knew what she was doing.

[ He pauses. If he knew better he'd say he was forlorn. He doesn't know any better, and he just keeps playing with Peaches instead. ]

We worked well together.

[ Ship? Space?? Those words don't immediately compute, but when they do, they quietly overtake the rest of what he says. Not that she doesn't care about the details, but it's a little hard for her to mentally gloss over Amos literally being from outer space.

Peaches looks like she's thoroughly enjoying herself and primed for a petting, but first Gray just has to ask. ]

Mr. Amos... You're an astronaut?

[ There's no small amount of wonder in her voice. Even if she's met magi with the power to harness celestial bodies and rain down meteors, the romance of space travel remains pure to her. A lifetime of staring at the stars with a mountaintop view and little else to distract her from them has carved a healthy appreciation in her heart for that endless, shimmering expanse. ]

Not here I'm not.

[ The thing about living in space every day of your life for a couple of decades is that it becomes mundane. You learn how to adjust to different gravities to the point it becomes instinctual; you respect the scarcity of resources and the care you gotta take into looking after what you have so that you can stay alive. It's just life, with a slightly different set of rules to live by.

Any sense of wonder wore off for him way too long ago; that, and the part where he's still a little drunk and a lot depressed means he has a difficult time appreciating Gray's. ]

They don't got that here. Dunno if they ever will. Doesn't really matter, I guess.

[ Since they're supposed to bring about the end of everything.

He's stuck on autopilot with Peaches, bouncing the toy around a little as he talks, but not a whole lot else. ]

[ It's strange to her that he would discard a piece of his identity like that, however obsolete it now is. Even if she doesn't have a cemetery to preside over here, she still considers herself a gravekeeper. Maybe it just illustrates the difference in their ages... Either way, she supposes he's right that it doesn't matter terribly anymore.

Peaches looks about as comfortable as she's going to get, so Gray leans over with the back of one finger outstretched. ]

Hello, Peaches...

[ Peaches glances over and lazily twists to give Gray's finger a delicate sniff, before twisting a little more to butt her ear against Gray's hand. With permission granted, Gray goes on to gently rub the back of Peaches's head and around her neck until the cat closes her eyes and soaks in the feeling. ]

She's really friendly. You just need to wait for her to accept your invitation.

[ She beckons with her free hand for Amos to give it a try. If he does, she'll remove her hand so that he can get Peaches's full attention. ]

[ Amos does stop bouncing the toy around when Gray reaches out to Peaches, watching the two of them carefully. It's so gentle.

So that's how you get the trust of an animal, huh.

(Though Gray did get his trust pretty quick. He's not so drunk as to not realize that, so... it's clear her technique works.)

He gently sets the toy down on the ground and mimics Gray, shifting slightly to get a little closer, reaching out with his index finger, remaining fingers hanging limp. He watches... he's not sure what to watch at first, ultimately settling for the top of Peaches' head, her ears.

And, quietly, voice a little rough, a pair of words he's said so many times in the past, but not at all since arriving in Horos: ] Hey, Peaches.

[ Gray watches him with a small smile, though she senses that there's something else here, something deeper than she can see, maybe even something hurtful.

They've all come from someplace broken, whether that place was broken when they were there or broken when they arrived in Horos. If Gray was hopeless at trying to understand other people in her homeworld, which was full of people so different that they might as well have been a different species, then she may as well not try with her fellow Aions, who might as well be aliens.

Yet there's something unspeakably human in Amos's greeting, an inconsequential utterance to a random cat on the street. It's beyond Gray's ability to parse the feeling behind what she's seeing, but her own feeling is a little like she could cry.

However, she manages not to cry, which she considers very good for her. She watches in content silence as Peaches literally becomes wrapped around Amos's finger in aid of him finding the perfect petting spot. With the way the cat rubs the base of her ear against Amos's finger, almost bossy, maybe it could be said that she's the one petting him. ]

[open] you know what your problem is?

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