[ He's quiet at first as he observes the damage Gen has taken — the physical obvious; the emotional creeping along his senses in ways he both can and cannot understand. The confusion — betrayal? — is something he's felt before, but where it came from... Amos doesn't get that.
He lets Gen grip at his shirt, bury himself in it, and cautiously he lifts his arms to hug him to his chest in a furred embrace. Always mindful of these stupid claws — they couldn't hurt Set, they still hold the potential to hurt Gen — and for a moment, he's quiet. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is a low rumble, sad and hurting as to how all of this has turned out — for the prism, yes, because they'll need to get it back, but this is much worse right now. ] You do what you have to for your people. I get it.
[ It's just that he doesn't have a Reiji, nobody from his home universe left to mourn — he'd left them behind more than a year ago. He doesn't have to fight for them. Everyone he has left to keep safe is...
... here, and instinctually, Amos hugs Gen that little bit tighter. He'd do anything he could to save any kid. Any other Zenite. But Gen is the person here he's known the longest now, and anything Amos might have to do for him, he would.
He knows cure wounds; while he can't do anything about the concussion, he can at least put a stop to the bleeding. There's a gentle prod from Amos as he seeks permission, Will you let me patch you up?, a little magical spark emanating from him, just waiting for confirmation.
And, out loud, still soft and quiet and as reassuring as he can be, ] I'm okay. We'll find a way to get the prism back, just might take longer than we thought. And then I'll kill him.
[ He'd never liked Set, something always off about the guy in a way that signalled danger — but now, after this? Whether he's working with Yima or not, he wants to bury him. ]
no subject
He lets Gen grip at his shirt, bury himself in it, and cautiously he lifts his arms to hug him to his chest in a furred embrace. Always mindful of these stupid claws — they couldn't hurt Set, they still hold the potential to hurt Gen — and for a moment, he's quiet. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is a low rumble, sad and hurting as to how all of this has turned out — for the prism, yes, because they'll need to get it back, but this is much worse right now. ] You do what you have to for your people. I get it.
[ It's just that he doesn't have a Reiji, nobody from his home universe left to mourn — he'd left them behind more than a year ago. He doesn't have to fight for them. Everyone he has left to keep safe is...
... here, and instinctually, Amos hugs Gen that little bit tighter. He'd do anything he could to save any kid. Any other Zenite. But Gen is the person here he's known the longest now, and anything Amos might have to do for him, he would.
He knows cure wounds; while he can't do anything about the concussion, he can at least put a stop to the bleeding. There's a gentle prod from Amos as he seeks permission, Will you let me patch you up?, a little magical spark emanating from him, just waiting for confirmation.
And, out loud, still soft and quiet and as reassuring as he can be, ] I'm okay. We'll find a way to get the prism back, just might take longer than we thought. And then I'll kill him.
[ He'd never liked Set, something always off about the guy in a way that signalled danger — but now, after this? Whether he's working with Yima or not, he wants to bury him. ]