[ He feels her come up behind him rather than sees or even hears her, the knowledge of someone much larger than he at his back impossible to dismiss. Someone who he doesn't even really know is friend or foe, and so it does raise the hairs on the back of his neck some, an instinct amplified by the shit they're in. And it certainly isn't lost on him that he is at her mercy here; without powers and with only raw strength between the two of them, she completely outclasses him.
So it's a good thing that whatever their relationship is at this point isn't antagonistic. Despite all the shit he's pulled, right now they're practically cordial. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is quiet; he sure is a broken record right now. Amos tightens his fist as he glances around them, almost wishing his discord was just a touch higher than it actually is. But he stuffs that feeling back down, because being sardonic at the moment doesn't seem like a good call. ] Yeah, you can. As long as I can count on you too. None of this shit leaves this tunnel.
[ There is discomfort there, awkward and wiggling, a mind wanting to pull back from this and that want being plowed out of the way by raw need. Amos looks around in the limited light before raising his fist — patches of bark starting to grow over top of his skin, a new protective layer he didn't ask for, doesn't want — and slams it into the wall beside them. Once, twice, three times before the bark splinters, before beads of sap well up from where it's been split open.
It stings; he ignores it, reaching down his shirt collar with his free hand for his own shard. There's a new, muted light source as he pulls it out, blue fireflies flitting about underneath its surface; Amos frowns when he looks at it, choosing to look up to meet Hayame's gaze instead. Both hands are held out to her — one with blood-sap out in the open; the other with his soul. ]
no subject
So it's a good thing that whatever their relationship is at this point isn't antagonistic. Despite all the shit he's pulled, right now they're practically cordial. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is quiet; he sure is a broken record right now. Amos tightens his fist as he glances around them, almost wishing his discord was just a touch higher than it actually is. But he stuffs that feeling back down, because being sardonic at the moment doesn't seem like a good call. ] Yeah, you can. As long as I can count on you too. None of this shit leaves this tunnel.
[ There is discomfort there, awkward and wiggling, a mind wanting to pull back from this and that want being plowed out of the way by raw need. Amos looks around in the limited light before raising his fist — patches of bark starting to grow over top of his skin, a new protective layer he didn't ask for, doesn't want — and slams it into the wall beside them. Once, twice, three times before the bark splinters, before beads of sap well up from where it's been split open.
It stings; he ignores it, reaching down his shirt collar with his free hand for his own shard. There's a new, muted light source as he pulls it out, blue fireflies flitting about underneath its surface; Amos frowns when he looks at it, choosing to look up to meet Hayame's gaze instead. Both hands are held out to her — one with blood-sap out in the open; the other with his soul. ]
Ready when you are.
[ The sooner the better, probably. ]