[ Amos' voice is harsh with desperation, but equally sharp is the retort that Gen spits back at him, eyes flashing bright with genuine rage. It's anger aimed mostly at the dryad, admittedly, but there's also slivers of it aimed at Amos and Kaeya, needling sharp towards them (even if Kaeya can't feel it). Plant matter creaks and groans Gen continues to fight against his restraints, sweat plastering strands of his hair damp against his brow from the physical exertion, but he still snarls between ragged breaths, ]
We can undo whatever it is! And what're you gonna do if it grabs her [ Misa, he means ], next? Try to kill her, too?!
[ The incredulous bark of his words cuts off with a wet cough as Gen briefly chokes on his own spit, so frantic in his attempts to rebuke Amos and free himself at the same time that he's rendering himself breathless. But even before he's caught his breath, even before he's cleared his throat, Gen strains at those vines holding him down -- tearing his attention away from Amos to look to Misa and, past her shoulder, Kaeya.
Or rather, whatever the hell is in Kaeya right now. ]
I'll do it, too. You want something, right? I'll give it!
[ Just saying those words makes him feel a little sick as his thoughts inevitably flash back to the breathtaking pain of when he'd lost his arm, watching blood pour from that truncated limb in a curtain of red and dying a fountain's waters scarlet. He's not even sure what he's going to be giving up this time. Regardless, it's going to hurt, he knows. It's going to hurt, and adapting to it will be tough, and it's going to suck. But still -- it's preferable to having to watch someone he considers an ally die right before his eyes again.
He swallows thickly, trying to ignore the chill creeping down his spice; despite the pallor of his face, his words are said with a grim conviction when he repeats, ]
I'll give you what you want.
[ So Misa can't kill Kaeya; she's not even going to try, right? They're all going to get out of this alive. That has to be the solution. ]
no subject
[ Amos' voice is harsh with desperation, but equally sharp is the retort that Gen spits back at him, eyes flashing bright with genuine rage. It's anger aimed mostly at the dryad, admittedly, but there's also slivers of it aimed at Amos and Kaeya, needling sharp towards them (even if Kaeya can't feel it). Plant matter creaks and groans Gen continues to fight against his restraints, sweat plastering strands of his hair damp against his brow from the physical exertion, but he still snarls between ragged breaths, ]
We can undo whatever it is! And what're you gonna do if it grabs her [ Misa, he means ], next? Try to kill her, too?!
[ The incredulous bark of his words cuts off with a wet cough as Gen briefly chokes on his own spit, so frantic in his attempts to rebuke Amos and free himself at the same time that he's rendering himself breathless. But even before he's caught his breath, even before he's cleared his throat, Gen strains at those vines holding him down -- tearing his attention away from Amos to look to Misa and, past her shoulder, Kaeya.
Or rather, whatever the hell is in Kaeya right now. ]
I'll do it, too. You want something, right? I'll give it!
[ Just saying those words makes him feel a little sick as his thoughts inevitably flash back to the breathtaking pain of when he'd lost his arm, watching blood pour from that truncated limb in a curtain of red and dying a fountain's waters scarlet. He's not even sure what he's going to be giving up this time. Regardless, it's going to hurt, he knows. It's going to hurt, and adapting to it will be tough, and it's going to suck. But still -- it's preferable to having to watch someone he considers an ally die right before his eyes again.
He swallows thickly, trying to ignore the chill creeping down his spice; despite the pallor of his face, his words are said with a grim conviction when he repeats, ]
I'll give you what you want.
[ So Misa can't kill Kaeya; she's not even going to try, right? They're all going to get out of this alive. That has to be the solution. ]