[ And, hey, if Gen wanted to take the slightly longer way back and stretch his legs amid their victory, who would Amos be to deny him? It'd seemed like a good idea at the time.
Amos' eyes train on Yima the second he hears her voice. His walk slows, stops as he takes in her every word as though it's air itself, necessary for life. He inhales it. Feels at peace with it.
So, Gen's reaction earns an immediate look, because what the fuck? It's Yima. She isn't the kind of person who... she doesn't send them on dirty work, doesn't ask anything special of them, anything she wouldn't do herself if she could. They're in a certain position, as this generation of Shard-Bearers. It's different.
(It's different, but she still reminds him of her. Breaths in his ear; bodies warm, together. The entire reason he's made it as far as he has. His first moral compass, and now, surely, his last.)
He looks at Gen, bafflement written across his face, before turning back to Yima. Warm, and soft, and entirely hers. ]
Thank you. [ And though he doesn't entirely recognize it — that is love in his voice. ] You're just here to check in, right? See how well things are going; see how we're one step closer to winning this whole thing. Because we are.
[ Appreciation for Yima; a desire to smooth over Gen's words. It's not... They can talk about it later. He can try to help him reach an understanding later. Get them in a better place than before, because once they secure the prism at Zenith's base then they really will be one step closer to a better future — for all of them, Amos and Gen and Yima and everyone else alike. ]
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Amos' eyes train on Yima the second he hears her voice. His walk slows, stops as he takes in her every word as though it's air itself, necessary for life. He inhales it. Feels at peace with it.
So, Gen's reaction earns an immediate look, because what the fuck? It's Yima. She isn't the kind of person who... she doesn't send them on dirty work, doesn't ask anything special of them, anything she wouldn't do herself if she could. They're in a certain position, as this generation of Shard-Bearers. It's different.
(It's different, but she still reminds him of her. Breaths in his ear; bodies warm, together. The entire reason he's made it as far as he has. His first moral compass, and now, surely, his last.)
He looks at Gen, bafflement written across his face, before turning back to Yima. Warm, and soft, and entirely hers. ]
Thank you. [ And though he doesn't entirely recognize it — that is love in his voice. ] You're just here to check in, right? See how well things are going; see how we're one step closer to winning this whole thing. Because we are.
[ Appreciation for Yima; a desire to smooth over Gen's words. It's not... They can talk about it later. He can try to help him reach an understanding later. Get them in a better place than before, because once they secure the prism at Zenith's base then they really will be one step closer to a better future — for all of them, Amos and Gen and Yima and everyone else alike. ]