[ The grey skin, the dark eyes, that’s enough for her to quickly step forward with a look of deep, warm concern. But as Amos pushes himself up and reveals the arm, she does stop. ]
Oh—
[ Her hands automatically come up to cover her mouth in her shock, because even as someone who’s not exactly shy when it comes to violence or gore… She’s never seen anything like this. It looks like it should hurt, no, be agony, and yet, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Her eyes trace the way up from his fingers, looking at every grotesque detail of what holds a human together. And at his face—
She remembers why she’s here. In fact, she’s all the more dedicated to it, because seeing Amos’s worried expression snaps her out of the shock. ]
Oh, Amos…
[ Quetzalcoatl takes those last few steps quickly. She’s careful as she moves, not wanting to touch his arm for fear that it would hurt him, but she throws her arms around his neck to pull him close in a tight, almost protective embrace. As always, she runs warm, but it makes his cold all the starker to her. ]
I’m here now. [ She doesn’t recognize this as Discord, since it’s also unfamiliar to her when it’s this bad, so she feels like those words are what she can do. He’s not alone with something scary. ]
[ It doesn't hurt. It feels strange, but not necessarily bad, other than the part where he isn't used to it. All of his limbs are in a similar state; putting weight on his feet had felt precarious, the sturdiness of his body that he's used to gone. Give him time, he could probably get a handle on it.
Except he feels awful. He'd killed—
She pulls him in, and the shock of affection so nakedly displayed has him pausing for a moment. He's still before he brings that arm up along her back; misjudges its new length, some parts all bone, some segments where it's nothing but nerves like thin steel cables keeping everything connected, and his hand ends up clasping around her shoulder blade instead of the small of her back, where it should have gone. His hold is not even; one finger nothing but bone, another just muscle, one normal, pinky nothing more than nerve endings. But it's still an attempt at a return of her embrace, just.
He shuts his eyes, dips his head into her, and breathes. ]
Thanks. I didn't know who else to call.
[ He sounds better, at least. His grip around her tightens, because his strength is not natural to him but acquired over time in these worlds, and he wants to... he doesn't want to kill her, no, nevermind Yima's visions, he just wants to. Squeeze her? Apply pressure... do something forceful, not let her go. ]
I don't know what... [ why is he like this, why is he not letting go... ] There was... I had to... Sunny, I've never killed a kid before. I didn't want to. Why did I have to?
[ The touch of his hand feels strange, and all of him is like ice against her warm skin, but she doesn’t shy away. He leans into her, and her head dips down to his. She tenderly kisses the crown of his head first, then lays her cheek there. Like the warmth of her presence in Communion, she surrounds him now fully. ]
And whenever you need me, you can call, yes?
[ She thinks he knows that, but still. It doesn’t hurt to stress it. She waits patiently as that grip tightens, as he works out the words. And when he does— ]
Oh…
[ It’s another soft little sound, but her expression fills with a sympathy he can’t see. In truth, the line is arbitrary to her, but that’s simply her godly point of view. She’d wiped out worlds with her power, and that included every being, young and old. But she’s not so distant from humanity that she doesn’t understand it. It’s not so far that she can’t empathize with the deep hurt it clearly causes Amos. ]
I’m so sorry, Amos.
[ And in that, she has a guess at what all of these oddities are. Cetina had warned her that traumatic things would increase Discord. What could this be but that? ]
What happened? [ Or, no— ] Do you want to talk about it?
[ He stills at her kiss, unnaturally so, like his body needs to reboot to process what just happened. His eyes blink back open, staring at nothing; his forehead still pressed into her body. And then he nods, slow but certain, at the assurance that he can reach out to her whenever. Yeah. Of course.
But his brow furrows when she apologizes, because it's not like she did anything wrong. What would she need to apologize for? But at the same time he brings his other arm up and around her, equally as broken and on display as his first one. He wraps it around the small of her back, using both of his arms to press her further into him. He wants her in closer— he wants to use his strength on her— something shifts in him, a dawning awareness as to why he'd instinctually reached out to her, a compatible aspect, a Meridian... ]
There's nothing to talk about. [ The answer is mumbled into her; he should pull up and actually look at her, but something instinctual is telling him to keep pressing her body into his.
Fuck it; he'll just switch to communion, dark and empty and where she'll be able to pick up on his despair far easier — an unintentional move on his part because really, he just wants to better communicate with her. ] There was a fucking monster wreaking havoc in Highstorm. It had a kid embedded in it. Kid was attached to the monster, so when I put it down the kid died too. That's it. Can't fucking do anything about it now.
[ Because he'd left before thinking to collect any shards, hurting so badly it had left him dazed; left him with only a flight response. That hurt is still there, even if he can't acknowledge it, because he's been doing his best to bury it under nothing and nothing and more nothing ever since he caught a whiff of it.
He doesn't want to fucking hurt, so he won't. He won't. He won't.
He squeezes Quetzalcoatl's body tighter to his own. ]
I think you can fix me.
[ A normal thing to say — but also a sincerely held belief, even if he isn't quite capable of articulating why. And at this point, putting his body back together is all he has left. ]
[ She accepts that answer without question, since that’s fine. She’d asked because it felt like the right thing to do, and of course she’d listen to every word that he wanted to say. But he doesn’t have to say anything, and that’s okay too. The way that he holds her with those strange, fragmented hands tells her what she needs to know. He needs her to be here. Whether it’s fear or just not wanting to be alone, the why doesn’t matter as much right now.
So, she’s a little surprised when his voice breaks through in Communion, and she breathes out a little oh as the wave of his mind shifts against hers. The dark expanse of his mind is like a bucket of cold water to her eternal warmth, but it’s just a surprise. She doesn’t pull away at all in body or in mind. If anything, she sweeps in further, like she had when he first reached out. She’s here to be the soothing warmth to ease the cold dark. ]
That’s—
[ Sad. Sad is all she thinks, and it’s a feeling that comes through Communion even if she doesn’t say it. Her heart hurts for Amos primarily, because he’s the one here before her, hurting for the experience. She’ll always be more affected by what’s physically in front of her than distant concepts, even if that’s a child’s life—but that’s the part of her that’s distant and inhuman. The god that had created humanity had also wiped it away before, after all.
He holds her tighter, and maybe it’s just on the verge of being too tight, but she wouldn’t say so. All of her attention is on him instead of herself. ]
I think so. Maybe? [ She’s genuinely not sure, since she’s still not completely sure what this is, but. ] Is this what Discord looks like for Zenites?
Sure. It can be sad for her. For him it's nothing, it's nothing, it is forcibly nothing. If he's protesting too much he doesn't recognize it, browbeating all of this shit until it's just par for the course again.
(Even if he didn't know, even if there was nothing he could do, he fucked up so bad.)
Closing himself off from the bad means closing himself off from the good, too, though. Quetzalcoatl sweeps in further, and he feels none of it — no warmth, no sunshine, just an icy numbness coming from within and skin against skin, muscle, nerve endings. The cold that's taken him over, and physical bodies.
That's all there ever really was, anyway.
He doesn't let up on his grip, just nuzzles his nose against her sternum, his hair brushing against her with the movement. ]
I dunno. Never got this far. Things don't get to me. [ Which is, obviously, not entirely true — something has gotten to him very badly right now, which is impossible for him to deny. But generally, he's unaffected — much like Quetzalcoatl in that sense, but for one or two personal lines he avoids crossing at all costs. Until he crosses them. ] Guess it is... You were the only one I could think of to call. I need a Meri's help. You're one of the best ones.
[ Stated plainly, because yeah, she is. His eyes flutter shut as he lets out an icy breath, fingertips — or what passes for them — pressing into her. ]
I'd do the same for you. I think. [ A weird little qualifier; he doesn't know if Quetzalcoatl's ever really experienced discord like this — but if it's the first time for him, then who knows. Could be a first time for anyone. ] That's not where we're at right now, though.
[ Small, and soft, a delicate ice crystal that just needs to land on warm skin before it melts away: ] Please help me.
[ It’s flattering to hear that Amos things so highly of her, but it’s truly secondary compared to her concern for him. Even that qualifier—“I think”—doesn’t bother her in the slightest. ]
Por supuesto.
[ There was never any question. If she could help, she would. That’s true for just about anyone in Kenos, because that’s the kind of person (the kind of god) she is, but Amos is still special amongst them. They were friends. She’d shared drinks with him, laughed with him, shared this very bed warmly and happily. Quetzalcoatl loved easily and openly, so she’d do just about anything for him. So, this much was easy.
She thinks about the spell that she was taught and focuses on it more than she normally might, like adding that focus could make it stronger (it doesn’t). The magic of it gathers at her fingertips as a dim, warm glow, the light of Meridian itself infused through her. It’s not nearly as intense as how Meridian had infused him under the Tree of Life, of course… But it is still Meri magic. Wherever her skin touches him, that’s enough to draw in that discordant energy.
It does take some concentration on her part, so partially to help with that, partially just for not really knowing what else to do… She starts to hum a song. It’s an old song, truly ancient by Amos’s time, but it’s a soft, gentle melody. That’s the real point. ]
[ His eyes stay shut, his body stiffening at first at her touch, at that sign of Meridian on his skin, within his being. It feels foreign, and wrong, and... necessary. It's what happens when you set foot in a hot tub, at first way too hot, and then your body adjusts and relaxes into it. Amos' body wants to reject it, accepts it wholeheartedly, and he relaxes into her, soft little breaths emanating onto her as he holds her, steady and increasingly at peace. He doesn't notice when he starts joining in on the melody, just a little off by not having heard it before now, but still inclined to participate.
It doesn't take too long for his grip on her to relax, fingertips no longer pressing into her skin, the bones of his arms no longer trying to cause indentations. His hold on her loosens; then tightens as his arms reset, shifting back into their proper length; then loosens again as he adjusts for that. Skin returns to his arms, knitting itself over the unnatural gaps, and colour returns with it.
He's still cold, though; no longer on the edge of something much worse, but discord is still something he's been living with for a while. Amos' eyes flutter open, sclera still black, but irises back to their healthy blue. He stops his little out of tune hum, shifting his neck to look up at her. ]
Are you doing alright? [ His voice is uneven, wet, alive. ] This feels...
[ foreign, strange, wrong, he shouldn't want it, he remembers what it felt like before, the first time, sick and poison and like death ]
[ It feels just as uncomfortable for her at first as it does for Amos, because the two energies are like oil and water, and especially so for a pair that have so steadfastly chosen their respective sides. However, she doesn’t mind it, not really. So long as she’s helping Amos, she has no problem with some discomfort.
…Which, his body reforming and knitting itself back together is also a distinctly new, odd sensation against her. Even when her society could be rather macabre, this was still a new level of it. She definitely gives an involuntary shiver at a point, but she just laughs it off through her song with a lo siento before continuing. After all, even if the song is new to him and it’s a little off, she’s very endeared by it. Amos is sweet… No matter what, she’ll think that.
She shifts in turn as he looks up at her, and his (sweet!) question gets her to laugh. ]
Ah, a little tired, but that’s no problem!
[ It’s what acting like a sieve for Zenith does, and maybe needing to take a good, long nap later is barely a price to pay at all in her book. Just seeing the blues of his eyes, feeling him back together, that’s easily worth it. ]
You look like you’re feeling a little better too. [ no more spooky space horror, hooray! ] I’ll stay as long as you want me to.
[ He still doesn't pull away, urging her to keep going. Even if it's tiring her out... She seems like she's in bright enough spirits, and it makes it easier for him to encourage her along. His breath is a soft laugh against her skin, brisk rather than freezing; his hands readjust themselves along her back, gentle brushes of fingertips before finding their place on her again, familiar and comfortable. ]
I am. Thanks. [ And yet he could still be feeling even more better. Amos sighs, dipping his head back down to lay it against her chest, a contented dog happy to be with its people. ] Think I've been needing this for a while... If you can stay a bit longer. I don't think I'm gonna be up for fucking anytime tonight, but you can crash here if you need to. Could do breakfast later.
[ Because no, the mere concept of cuddling doesn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but he's at enough of a loss in his desire for her to stay to propose it anyway. At some point she'll stop, and this visit won't really serve a purpose anymore, but... maybe they could just enjoy it anyway?
He kinda still needs it, even if he's doing his best to not think about what tipped him over the edge. That's... for right now, that's in the past. It has to be. ]
[ It’s like that tension and fear is melting off him, and for someone like Quetzalcoatl that just deeply desires others’ happiness, that’s all she needs. She laughs with relief as he rests his head against her chest, then more and brightly as he continues. ]
Oh, me neither! I’d probably just fall asleep before we could get started!
[ They’re definitely on the same page there, at least. That tight, protective hug relaxes to a gentler embrace, but she turns to rest her cheek against his head fondly. The flow of Meridian starts up again, but its pace is more relaxed. He’s feeling better and looking better, so it doesn’t quite feel so dire. ]
I’ll work on it until I do get sleepy! But before I’d— Well, disappear makes it sound demasiado dramático, but kind of that! But it’s not like dissipation, so I’d get better after resting.
[ it’s just anime shit don’t worry about it tbh ]
But I won’t, so don’t worry! I don’t want to miss out on breakfast, right?
[ He inhales her scent. The feeling of Meridian within him is still uncomfortable, but it's like poking at a bruise — he doesn't want to stop doing it, and so he continues to relax his body against hers, a soft mm sound coming from his throat. A dog moaning when you hit that sweet spot right behind its ears. ]
Don't disappear. [ His voice is playful, like he doesn't think that'll really happen. ] Just drift off here when you get sleepy. It's fine. Might be kind of nice...
[ He's the one who sounds sleepy now, so much of the tension he's been carrying with him for months slipping away in her embrace. Fuck. Fuuuuck, does it feel good. All thoughts of how messed up her temple being not too far away from here, how Yima wants it gone, how Yima wants her broken, are so far away from his mind they might as well not exist.
He shifts, if only so he can speak clearly to her again. ]
We can do waffles. Had them as a kid sometimes after rough nights. [ What rough nights, don't worry about it. ] I got berries, syrup, whipped cream... the whole nine yards.
[ Yeah, he's basically just babbling now, but he's so contentedly at peace in a way he'd desperately needed. And besides, he's safe with Quetzalcoatl in a way that feels familiar. Nothing really matters outside of this moment, and he's glad for it. ]
[ The idea of pleasantly drifting off to sleep is a great one to her, but that’s unsurprising, probably. As Amos well knows, she’s a cuddler. So, with a little laugh, she tosses her weight down to flop onto his bed and playfully tug him along with her. She really will do this until she just slips off to sleep. ]
Ah, waffles sounds nice! And maybe… I think I’d be able to whip up something to go with it! Xocolatl! Well, if you like things that are a little bitter, at least.
[ Or, they can gladly babble at each other. She keeps up the Purification process, but it is accompanied by fond, gentle little strokes of her fingertips through his hair. ]
[ His eyes snap open as he falls down right beside her with a soft laugh of surprise before he shuts them again. Amos stretches out on his bed now that his legs aren't so long they'll risk dangling over the edge; nuzzles back into her as he finds his new position. He hardly counts as a cuddler, but now that he really doesn't want to be away from her...
This is probably the most affectionate he's ever been around her, demanding attention and body contact but in like, an adorable way. A cat headbutting you for pets, and easily placated once it has them. ]
Xocolatl? [ But once he says it out loud for himself it clicks into place. ] Yeah, why not? Never had that before. We can set up a whole waffle bar. Load 'em up with everything.
[ He kind of never wants this moment to end, the horrors of the world (the horrors that he's helped create) fading further and further away the more she purifies him — but at the same time, this is giving him something to look forward to after as well. The shit, he can, will have to, deal with later. But for now — for however much she succeeds in purifying him before they both drift off — he is wonderfully, wonderfully content. ]
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no subject
Oh—
[ Her hands automatically come up to cover her mouth in her shock, because even as someone who’s not exactly shy when it comes to violence or gore… She’s never seen anything like this. It looks like it should hurt, no, be agony, and yet, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Her eyes trace the way up from his fingers, looking at every grotesque detail of what holds a human together. And at his face—
She remembers why she’s here. In fact, she’s all the more dedicated to it, because seeing Amos’s worried expression snaps her out of the shock. ]
Oh, Amos…
[ Quetzalcoatl takes those last few steps quickly. She’s careful as she moves, not wanting to touch his arm for fear that it would hurt him, but she throws her arms around his neck to pull him close in a tight, almost protective embrace. As always, she runs warm, but it makes his cold all the starker to her. ]
I’m here now. [ She doesn’t recognize this as Discord, since it’s also unfamiliar to her when it’s this bad, so she feels like those words are what she can do. He’s not alone with something scary. ]
no subject
Except he feels awful. He'd killed—
She pulls him in, and the shock of affection so nakedly displayed has him pausing for a moment. He's still before he brings that arm up along her back; misjudges its new length, some parts all bone, some segments where it's nothing but nerves like thin steel cables keeping everything connected, and his hand ends up clasping around her shoulder blade instead of the small of her back, where it should have gone. His hold is not even; one finger nothing but bone, another just muscle, one normal, pinky nothing more than nerve endings. But it's still an attempt at a return of her embrace, just.
He shuts his eyes, dips his head into her, and breathes. ]
Thanks. I didn't know who else to call.
[ He sounds better, at least. His grip around her tightens, because his strength is not natural to him but acquired over time in these worlds, and he wants to... he doesn't want to kill her, no, nevermind Yima's visions, he just wants to. Squeeze her? Apply pressure... do something forceful, not let her go. ]
I don't know what... [ why is he like this, why is he not letting go... ] There was... I had to... Sunny, I've never killed a kid before. I didn't want to. Why did I have to?
no subject
And whenever you need me, you can call, yes?
[ She thinks he knows that, but still. It doesn’t hurt to stress it. She waits patiently as that grip tightens, as he works out the words. And when he does— ]
Oh…
[ It’s another soft little sound, but her expression fills with a sympathy he can’t see. In truth, the line is arbitrary to her, but that’s simply her godly point of view. She’d wiped out worlds with her power, and that included every being, young and old. But she’s not so distant from humanity that she doesn’t understand it. It’s not so far that she can’t empathize with the deep hurt it clearly causes Amos. ]
I’m so sorry, Amos.
[ And in that, she has a guess at what all of these oddities are. Cetina had warned her that traumatic things would increase Discord. What could this be but that? ]
What happened? [ Or, no— ] Do you want to talk about it?
no subject
But his brow furrows when she apologizes, because it's not like she did anything wrong. What would she need to apologize for? But at the same time he brings his other arm up and around her, equally as broken and on display as his first one. He wraps it around the small of her back, using both of his arms to press her further into him. He wants her in closer— he wants to use his strength on her— something shifts in him, a dawning awareness as to why he'd instinctually reached out to her, a compatible aspect, a Meridian... ]
There's nothing to talk about. [ The answer is mumbled into her; he should pull up and actually look at her, but something instinctual is telling him to keep pressing her body into his.
Fuck it; he'll just switch to communion, dark and empty and where she'll be able to pick up on his despair far easier — an unintentional move on his part because really, he just wants to better communicate with her. ] There was a fucking monster wreaking havoc in Highstorm. It had a kid embedded in it. Kid was attached to the monster, so when I put it down the kid died too. That's it. Can't fucking do anything about it now.
[ Because he'd left before thinking to collect any shards, hurting so badly it had left him dazed; left him with only a flight response. That hurt is still there, even if he can't acknowledge it, because he's been doing his best to bury it under nothing and nothing and more nothing ever since he caught a whiff of it.
He doesn't want to fucking hurt, so he won't. He won't. He won't.
He squeezes Quetzalcoatl's body tighter to his own. ]
I think you can fix me.
[ A normal thing to say — but also a sincerely held belief, even if he isn't quite capable of articulating why. And at this point, putting his body back together is all he has left. ]
no subject
So, she’s a little surprised when his voice breaks through in Communion, and she breathes out a little oh as the wave of his mind shifts against hers. The dark expanse of his mind is like a bucket of cold water to her eternal warmth, but it’s just a surprise. She doesn’t pull away at all in body or in mind. If anything, she sweeps in further, like she had when he first reached out. She’s here to be the soothing warmth to ease the cold dark. ]
That’s—
[ Sad. Sad is all she thinks, and it’s a feeling that comes through Communion even if she doesn’t say it. Her heart hurts for Amos primarily, because he’s the one here before her, hurting for the experience. She’ll always be more affected by what’s physically in front of her than distant concepts, even if that’s a child’s life—but that’s the part of her that’s distant and inhuman. The god that had created humanity had also wiped it away before, after all.
He holds her tighter, and maybe it’s just on the verge of being too tight, but she wouldn’t say so. All of her attention is on him instead of herself. ]
I think so. Maybe? [ She’s genuinely not sure, since she’s still not completely sure what this is, but. ] Is this what Discord looks like for Zenites?
no subject
Sure. It can be sad for her. For him it's nothing, it's nothing, it is forcibly nothing. If he's protesting too much he doesn't recognize it, browbeating all of this shit until it's just par for the course again.
(Even if he didn't know, even if there was nothing he could do, he fucked up so bad.)
Closing himself off from the bad means closing himself off from the good, too, though. Quetzalcoatl sweeps in further, and he feels none of it — no warmth, no sunshine, just an icy numbness coming from within and skin against skin, muscle, nerve endings. The cold that's taken him over, and physical bodies.
That's all there ever really was, anyway.
He doesn't let up on his grip, just nuzzles his nose against her sternum, his hair brushing against her with the movement. ]
I dunno. Never got this far. Things don't get to me. [ Which is, obviously, not entirely true — something has gotten to him very badly right now, which is impossible for him to deny. But generally, he's unaffected — much like Quetzalcoatl in that sense, but for one or two personal lines he avoids crossing at all costs. Until he crosses them. ] Guess it is... You were the only one I could think of to call. I need a Meri's help. You're one of the best ones.
[ Stated plainly, because yeah, she is. His eyes flutter shut as he lets out an icy breath, fingertips — or what passes for them — pressing into her. ]
I'd do the same for you. I think. [ A weird little qualifier; he doesn't know if Quetzalcoatl's ever really experienced discord like this — but if it's the first time for him, then who knows. Could be a first time for anyone. ] That's not where we're at right now, though.
[ Small, and soft, a delicate ice crystal that just needs to land on warm skin before it melts away: ] Please help me.
no subject
Por supuesto.
[ There was never any question. If she could help, she would. That’s true for just about anyone in Kenos, because that’s the kind of person (the kind of god) she is, but Amos is still special amongst them. They were friends. She’d shared drinks with him, laughed with him, shared this very bed warmly and happily. Quetzalcoatl loved easily and openly, so she’d do just about anything for him. So, this much was easy.
She thinks about the spell that she was taught and focuses on it more than she normally might, like adding that focus could make it stronger (it doesn’t). The magic of it gathers at her fingertips as a dim, warm glow, the light of Meridian itself infused through her. It’s not nearly as intense as how Meridian had infused him under the Tree of Life, of course… But it is still Meri magic. Wherever her skin touches him, that’s enough to draw in that discordant energy.
It does take some concentration on her part, so partially to help with that, partially just for not really knowing what else to do… She starts to hum a song. It’s an old song, truly ancient by Amos’s time, but it’s a soft, gentle melody. That’s the real point. ]
no subject
It doesn't take too long for his grip on her to relax, fingertips no longer pressing into her skin, the bones of his arms no longer trying to cause indentations. His hold on her loosens; then tightens as his arms reset, shifting back into their proper length; then loosens again as he adjusts for that. Skin returns to his arms, knitting itself over the unnatural gaps, and colour returns with it.
He's still cold, though; no longer on the edge of something much worse, but discord is still something he's been living with for a while. Amos' eyes flutter open, sclera still black, but irises back to their healthy blue. He stops his little out of tune hum, shifting his neck to look up at her. ]
Are you doing alright? [ His voice is uneven, wet, alive. ] This feels...
[ foreign, strange, wrong, he shouldn't want it, he remembers what it felt like before, the first time, sick and poison and like death ]
... nice. It feels nice.
[ Maybe it's only okay when it's with her. ]
no subject
…Which, his body reforming and knitting itself back together is also a distinctly new, odd sensation against her. Even when her society could be rather macabre, this was still a new level of it. She definitely gives an involuntary shiver at a point, but she just laughs it off through her song with a lo siento before continuing. After all, even if the song is new to him and it’s a little off, she’s very endeared by it. Amos is sweet… No matter what, she’ll think that.
She shifts in turn as he looks up at her, and his (sweet!) question gets her to laugh. ]
Ah, a little tired, but that’s no problem!
[ It’s what acting like a sieve for Zenith does, and maybe needing to take a good, long nap later is barely a price to pay at all in her book. Just seeing the blues of his eyes, feeling him back together, that’s easily worth it. ]
You look like you’re feeling a little better too. [ no more spooky space horror, hooray! ] I’ll stay as long as you want me to.
no subject
I am. Thanks. [ And yet he could still be feeling even more better. Amos sighs, dipping his head back down to lay it against her chest, a contented dog happy to be with its people. ] Think I've been needing this for a while... If you can stay a bit longer. I don't think I'm gonna be up for fucking anytime tonight, but you can crash here if you need to. Could do breakfast later.
[ Because no, the mere concept of cuddling doesn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but he's at enough of a loss in his desire for her to stay to propose it anyway. At some point she'll stop, and this visit won't really serve a purpose anymore, but... maybe they could just enjoy it anyway?
He kinda still needs it, even if he's doing his best to not think about what tipped him over the edge. That's... for right now, that's in the past. It has to be. ]
no subject
Oh, me neither! I’d probably just fall asleep before we could get started!
[ They’re definitely on the same page there, at least. That tight, protective hug relaxes to a gentler embrace, but she turns to rest her cheek against his head fondly. The flow of Meridian starts up again, but its pace is more relaxed. He’s feeling better and looking better, so it doesn’t quite feel so dire. ]
I’ll work on it until I do get sleepy! But before I’d— Well, disappear makes it sound demasiado dramático, but kind of that! But it’s not like dissipation, so I’d get better after resting.
[ it’s just anime shit don’t worry about it tbh ]
But I won’t, so don’t worry! I don’t want to miss out on breakfast, right?
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Don't disappear. [ His voice is playful, like he doesn't think that'll really happen. ] Just drift off here when you get sleepy. It's fine. Might be kind of nice...
[ He's the one who sounds sleepy now, so much of the tension he's been carrying with him for months slipping away in her embrace. Fuck. Fuuuuck, does it feel good. All thoughts of how messed up her temple being not too far away from here, how Yima wants it gone, how Yima wants her broken, are so far away from his mind they might as well not exist.
He shifts, if only so he can speak clearly to her again. ]
We can do waffles. Had them as a kid sometimes after rough nights. [ What rough nights, don't worry about it. ] I got berries, syrup, whipped cream... the whole nine yards.
[ Yeah, he's basically just babbling now, but he's so contentedly at peace in a way he'd desperately needed. And besides, he's safe with Quetzalcoatl in a way that feels familiar. Nothing really matters outside of this moment, and he's glad for it. ]
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Ah, waffles sounds nice! And maybe… I think I’d be able to whip up something to go with it! Xocolatl! Well, if you like things that are a little bitter, at least.
[ Or, they can gladly babble at each other. She keeps up the Purification process, but it is accompanied by fond, gentle little strokes of her fingertips through his hair. ]
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This is probably the most affectionate he's ever been around her, demanding attention and body contact but in like, an adorable way. A cat headbutting you for pets, and easily placated once it has them. ]
Xocolatl? [ But once he says it out loud for himself it clicks into place. ] Yeah, why not? Never had that before. We can set up a whole waffle bar. Load 'em up with everything.
[ He kind of never wants this moment to end, the horrors of the world (the horrors that he's helped create) fading further and further away the more she purifies him — but at the same time, this is giving him something to look forward to after as well. The shit, he can, will have to, deal with later. But for now — for however much she succeeds in purifying him before they both drift off — he is wonderfully, wonderfully content. ]