He's thankful that the idea of giving up a memory was shot down so quickly, before he even had so much as a chance to chime in. He isn't someone who keeps secrets — but for a few, and they're monumental for him. The only precious memories he really has are of Lydia. He doesn't want to give that away. And he doesn't want to give up any of her, not when he's only just found Yima, who already reminds him so much of her...
And, surprising as it is, he's thankful that Kaeya just goes for it.
It's not as though he'd been looking forward to cutting off his hand. He relies on them so much — to fight, to build, for anything and everything — but his sacrifice was going to have to mean something, right? His right hand would've meant more, but it'll be easier for him to use it to cut off his left, so that was what he was prepared to do — at least until Kaeya suddenly took that choice away from all of them.
For a second, his mind blinks back to a few days ago. A week ago. Whenever it was; when he'd gone to Kaeya's room to try to make amends for something that couldn't really be amended, and found that he couldn't read him anymore. This is that all over again, but possibly so much more consequential.
He takes a step forward to help when the not-scream fills his ears. When their enclosure shifts without actually releasing them. And then Amos stops, mouth agape, looking up, around at all of them, at everything.
He remembers being trapped in underground ruins some couple of years ago. He'd been blinded then, his body failing him. He's not blinded now; even as he's trapped in some kind of prison, he has all of his faculties about him — and he has people to protect.
So, fuck this.
With a spike of anger, a snarl (it's still him, he's got it under control, or at least he's pretty sure he does), Amos finishes crossing over to where Kaeya is — and, more importantly, the knife. He rips it from the dryad with his right hand, aiming to stab and hack and slash again and again and again, as many times as he can get away with — because if this thing can bleed then it can die. ]
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He's thankful that the idea of giving up a memory was shot down so quickly, before he even had so much as a chance to chime in. He isn't someone who keeps secrets — but for a few, and they're monumental for him. The only precious memories he really has are of Lydia. He doesn't want to give that away. And he doesn't want to give up any of her, not when he's only just found Yima, who already reminds him so much of her...
And, surprising as it is, he's thankful that Kaeya just goes for it.
It's not as though he'd been looking forward to cutting off his hand. He relies on them so much — to fight, to build, for anything and everything — but his sacrifice was going to have to mean something, right? His right hand would've meant more, but it'll be easier for him to use it to cut off his left, so that was what he was prepared to do — at least until Kaeya suddenly took that choice away from all of them.
For a second, his mind blinks back to a few days ago. A week ago. Whenever it was; when he'd gone to Kaeya's room to try to make amends for something that couldn't really be amended, and found that he couldn't read him anymore. This is that all over again, but possibly so much more consequential.
He takes a step forward to help when the not-scream fills his ears. When their enclosure shifts without actually releasing them. And then Amos stops, mouth agape, looking up, around at all of them, at everything.
He remembers being trapped in underground ruins some couple of years ago. He'd been blinded then, his body failing him. He's not blinded now; even as he's trapped in some kind of prison, he has all of his faculties about him — and he has people to protect.
So, fuck this.
With a spike of anger, a snarl (it's still him, he's got it under control, or at least he's pretty sure he does), Amos finishes crossing over to where Kaeya is — and, more importantly, the knife. He rips it from the dryad with his right hand, aiming to stab and hack and slash again and again and again, as many times as he can get away with — because if this thing can bleed then it can die. ]