[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

[gravings]

[ 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. ]

[baltimores]

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. ]

[gravings]

[ 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. ]

[baltimores]

[ 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.

[gravings]

[ 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. ]

[baltimores]

[ If he had the words for it, there would be a lot to say for this moment.

He does not have the words for it. He never has. He probably never will. Amos just shifts seamlessly into rubbing his finger along the top of Peaches' head to having his whole hand at her mercy. Whatever she wants from him, she'll get; head massages, chin scratches... all of it.

Amos sits there with her, with them, for a while, a profound emptiness lit up with a brief spark of what could be construed as happiness. It's too faint for him to really do anything with, but it is there.

He's getting too sober for this. He eventually lifts his head from looking down at Peaches, looks up towards the top of Gray's hood. ]

Thanks. [ He doesn't know what he's thanking for. He does. His words are small, tentative, pained. ] Are you okay from here? I should probably get going.

[ He has some emotions to bury again. When he's back in his usual, empty state, he'll be able to look back on this and appreciate it.

But he's not there, Venera raw enough to have reopened a wound he's been ignoring since he woke up an Aion. Self-medication remains his only answer for that, so... with permission, he'll go back to burying it until he's empty enough to look back on it again.

It'll be fine. ]

[gravings]

[ She wonders if he knows what he's thanking her for when she can detect a strain in his voice that wasn't there before. But she can imagine; being reminded of what they lost isn't easy (or shouldn't be), even if the love they felt for those things is still there. It's hard to say why they were built this way, to give pieces of themselves to other people even though parting is always inevitable.

But she can see that he wants to be alone now, and that's okay. This whole venture has gone on for longer than she might have hoped for, and with luck he won't have regretted tagging along with her later. ]

Okay. Thank you for giving it a try, Mr. Amos... Please take care.

[ She'll see him again, sooner or later. Until then, she'll spend a little more time spoiling Peaches. ]

[baltimores]

[ He is thankful for her. He has enough in him to recognize it in this moment; will be able to appreciate it that much more after he's been told off, told to get his shit together, realize there are people here who consider him important.

Won't really know for sure if she's one of them — but the time she took with him means a lot.

Amos stands up, and it's a little easier to do than he'd like. Any swaying is gone, inebriation no longer affecting his brain to nearly the extent he needs it to, and... yeah. He's sober enough to recognize that's sad; he isn't sober enough to have the capacity to care.

He nods down at her, at Peaches, voice still soft, quiet, gentle. Like he needs to make sure he won't scare them off. (He knows he won't. It's himself who's the problem.) ]

I'll try.

[ He's doing such a bad job at it. ]

Thanks again... [ Voice a little rougher, ] This was nice.

[ It was.

And now he needs another drink, as he starts tracing his steps back to a much seedier part of town. ]