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Entry tags:
- !event,
- arknights: gavial,
- baroque: koriel xii (dextera),
- bastard!!: dark schneider,
- boy's abyss: gen minegishi,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- fire emblem: byleth eisner,
- fire emblem: claude von riegan,
- fire emblem: dimitri a. blaiddyd,
- fire emblem: yuri leclerc,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- jinba: hayame,
- legend of zelda (the): midna,
- locked tomb (the): john gaius,
- oc: liem talbott,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- vampire hunter d: d
Toxic Love: The Exalt Oracle
NOTHING GOES OFF WITHOUT A HITCH
You feel it, the moment that the Exalt oracle opens its eyes, like something that rips through your body from head to toe, something that feel like fire, wild. It sears into your veins, like acid and fire, something that triggers something that makes you want to run, or perhaps turn and face something head on. Before you can find what sets you off – if you could find it. Bearers know what this sensation is, it is different but the same at its core. The emotions, the feelings it sparks are different – but in the end, you know it for what it is: An Oracle.
Kenos groans from the awakening, like a part of a whole sparks to life, and though you do not know what it is that they want yet, you understand and know their existence down to your core. That feeling to attack or defend, perhaps even flee, does not leave you, but instead it fills your veins, you feel it thrumming, pulsing, like the beat of a heart – if one has one. With the sense of awakening, bearers know the shape of what comes next, they will be asked to act, to do. You do not know how it will happen, or what the Exalt will ask of you, but the knowledge that it will happen is borne from experience, not from the Oracle itself.
As you begin to move, to… look, you are not long for this day, it clouds your mind, a hazy, drowsy feeling takes over, the encroaching dark that threatens to swarm, crowding from the sides, taking over your vision – until… it fully takes over, and Bearers are put into a deep slumber.
When bearers awaken, it’s difficult to make sense of what your sleepy eyes see. Structures begin to swim into view, and they like tall figures looking down upon you. It’s difficult to tell what they are at first, but as you wake up, you begin to see, they are not people, or creatures, but long spore-like stalks. Some have ribbed overgrowths that you can see, and some end in growths that ripple and hang over, but have no “cap”. They tower over the bearers, like towering spires and buildings, on all sides, as if they were trapped in a ring of them. As bearers look around them they will notice tall green spires around them as well, and it takes a moment for things to really settle in. Mushrooms. Blades of grass. The springy moss about them is almost as tall as they are, low to the ground. There are pebbles that appear as boulders, and the thunderous steps nearby indicate an insect or arachnid walking by, far larger than you. There is a stillness to this space, like a held breath, and as the bearers awake, and regard one another, and then to the center of the circle is – a small effigy in the center.
It is here, the Exalt Oracle, and you feel compelled to regard it, before you are given a pang down to your core. It compels you – pleads, asks, begs, and demands, all in one – for what it wishes for. Precious mementos and precious items that they are missing. They have been lost, and they are somewhere within the Liosachán. It beseeches the bearers to return its items, and begs they be returned here to the circle. There are no words, but there is a pleading sensation, a feeling that these items are treasured by this Oracle.
You feel at your sides, your pockets, and find one item on your person, a weapon, a companion, whatever it is you would bring with you to the conflict, shrunk down to a tiny size with you.
Stay steadfast, bearers, and capture theflag Oracle!
Kenos groans from the awakening, like a part of a whole sparks to life, and though you do not know what it is that they want yet, you understand and know their existence down to your core. That feeling to attack or defend, perhaps even flee, does not leave you, but instead it fills your veins, you feel it thrumming, pulsing, like the beat of a heart – if one has one. With the sense of awakening, bearers know the shape of what comes next, they will be asked to act, to do. You do not know how it will happen, or what the Exalt will ask of you, but the knowledge that it will happen is borne from experience, not from the Oracle itself.
As you begin to move, to… look, you are not long for this day, it clouds your mind, a hazy, drowsy feeling takes over, the encroaching dark that threatens to swarm, crowding from the sides, taking over your vision – until… it fully takes over, and Bearers are put into a deep slumber.
When bearers awaken, it’s difficult to make sense of what your sleepy eyes see. Structures begin to swim into view, and they like tall figures looking down upon you. It’s difficult to tell what they are at first, but as you wake up, you begin to see, they are not people, or creatures, but long spore-like stalks. Some have ribbed overgrowths that you can see, and some end in growths that ripple and hang over, but have no “cap”. They tower over the bearers, like towering spires and buildings, on all sides, as if they were trapped in a ring of them. As bearers look around them they will notice tall green spires around them as well, and it takes a moment for things to really settle in. Mushrooms. Blades of grass. The springy moss about them is almost as tall as they are, low to the ground. There are pebbles that appear as boulders, and the thunderous steps nearby indicate an insect or arachnid walking by, far larger than you. There is a stillness to this space, like a held breath, and as the bearers awake, and regard one another, and then to the center of the circle is – a small effigy in the center.
It is here, the Exalt Oracle, and you feel compelled to regard it, before you are given a pang down to your core. It compels you – pleads, asks, begs, and demands, all in one – for what it wishes for. Precious mementos and precious items that they are missing. They have been lost, and they are somewhere within the Liosachán. It beseeches the bearers to return its items, and begs they be returned here to the circle. There are no words, but there is a pleading sensation, a feeling that these items are treasured by this Oracle.
You feel at your sides, your pockets, and find one item on your person, a weapon, a companion, whatever it is you would bring with you to the conflict, shrunk down to a tiny size with you.
Stay steadfast, bearers, and capture the
SURVIVAL OF THE SMALLEST ( DAYS 1 - 5 )
Unlike the still, stale apocalypse that had been the setting of the Iconoclast Oracle, the greenhouse is lush and vibrant with activity.
The Effigy present within yearns to be reunited with what belongs to it, fixated upon the five items lost within the greenhouse. The swell of its longing fills all Shardbearers, urging them to take action, claim the items and present all five to it to attain victory for that Faction.
Over a period of ten days, Shardbearers of both factions will have to navigate environmental dangers, and the normal procession of time, as the greenhouse is going about its daily routine. Workers plod around like towering goliaths, weeding and watering and pruning the greenhouse's contents. The Liosachán's native population of fae begin to take notice of the newcomers in their midst, emerging from grassy mounds hidden in the natural landscape to spy and pry about the newness surrounding them.
For Shardbearers demonstrating particular selflessness, favoring the protection and defense of another, the Effigy responds warmly from the third day onward — rewarding them with a sign of their dutiful nature towards others in the form of fairy wings, the form of which are unique to the Shardbearer themselves.
DAY FOUR. The sudden thunderous sound of a storm begins. No, not a storm, the tumble and crash of water pouring down upon the greenhouse — the workers of the Liosachán perform their routines faithfully, after all. In watering the garden, the danger of the environment threatens to overtake Shardbearers and their work alike. Drops of water fall, their size equal or larger than even the tallest of characters, and trickles of water muddy the ground in the form of raging rapids.
The security of Meridian and Zenith's camps is even called into question, because as simple as the act of watering a garden is, it is a nightmarish situation for such itty bitty Bearers to be in!
DAY FIVE. By day five, the fae of the Liosachán no longer lurk and linger in the corner of one's eye. They make themselves known, having prepared a banquet below one of the mushrooms, within sight of the Effigy. A table draped in spider-silk lace awaits any Bearer who comes near enough, the sagging piece of driftwood polished to a gleam with golden sap, leaving it waterproofed and pretty to behold. A handful of corks serve as seating, with most of the fae draping themselves across scraps of cotton as though they are simply at a picnic.
They invitingly wave to Shardbearers, chattering brightly in their foreign, lilting tongue, waving tiny sandwiches and little clay pots full of jams and honeys, brandishing sugared berries that they bite into with gusto, staining their arms and faces in swathes of blue and red. They clearly are welcoming to whomever comes upon them, urging them to avail themselves to the bounty they have prepared. Perhaps some characters know better than to eat the food of the fae, recalling legends and lore about the mystical properties and implicit bargains made in becoming a guest. Perhaps some have no idea, and are simply hungry enough to dig in!
The Effigy present within yearns to be reunited with what belongs to it, fixated upon the five items lost within the greenhouse. The swell of its longing fills all Shardbearers, urging them to take action, claim the items and present all five to it to attain victory for that Faction.
Over a period of ten days, Shardbearers of both factions will have to navigate environmental dangers, and the normal procession of time, as the greenhouse is going about its daily routine. Workers plod around like towering goliaths, weeding and watering and pruning the greenhouse's contents. The Liosachán's native population of fae begin to take notice of the newcomers in their midst, emerging from grassy mounds hidden in the natural landscape to spy and pry about the newness surrounding them.
Naturally curious, and equally dangerous, the fae of the Liosachán are Highstorm natives. They range in cool coloration, from soft violet-greys to deep stormy blues, and wear clothes fashioned from of goods pilfered from the pockets of workers, dropped on the ground or handcrafted from the environment itself. Wielding bits of copper tightly wound into blades and spears, they are a ferocious and cunning little people who seek to trick, trap and toy with Shardbearers. Direct violence is anathema to them, but violence that happens as a result of falling to one of their ploys is a badge of honor.DAY ONE - THREE. The Effigy initially urges Shardbearers to build bases of operation for defense and practicality, as surviving ten days without supporting one another is a surefire way to meet a grisly, tiny little end. Resources must be gathered: gather food and water, prepare shelter, establish unity and organization and prepare to set off into the wilds soon.
For Shardbearers demonstrating particular selflessness, favoring the protection and defense of another, the Effigy responds warmly from the third day onward — rewarding them with a sign of their dutiful nature towards others in the form of fairy wings, the form of which are unique to the Shardbearer themselves.
DAY FOUR. The sudden thunderous sound of a storm begins. No, not a storm, the tumble and crash of water pouring down upon the greenhouse — the workers of the Liosachán perform their routines faithfully, after all. In watering the garden, the danger of the environment threatens to overtake Shardbearers and their work alike. Drops of water fall, their size equal or larger than even the tallest of characters, and trickles of water muddy the ground in the form of raging rapids.
The security of Meridian and Zenith's camps is even called into question, because as simple as the act of watering a garden is, it is a nightmarish situation for such itty bitty Bearers to be in!
DAY FIVE. By day five, the fae of the Liosachán no longer lurk and linger in the corner of one's eye. They make themselves known, having prepared a banquet below one of the mushrooms, within sight of the Effigy. A table draped in spider-silk lace awaits any Bearer who comes near enough, the sagging piece of driftwood polished to a gleam with golden sap, leaving it waterproofed and pretty to behold. A handful of corks serve as seating, with most of the fae draping themselves across scraps of cotton as though they are simply at a picnic.
They invitingly wave to Shardbearers, chattering brightly in their foreign, lilting tongue, waving tiny sandwiches and little clay pots full of jams and honeys, brandishing sugared berries that they bite into with gusto, staining their arms and faces in swathes of blue and red. They clearly are welcoming to whomever comes upon them, urging them to avail themselves to the bounty they have prepared. Perhaps some characters know better than to eat the food of the fae, recalling legends and lore about the mystical properties and implicit bargains made in becoming a guest. Perhaps some have no idea, and are simply hungry enough to dig in!
UNWILLING TEN-ANTS ( DAYS SIX - EIGHT )
The scuttling, scrabbling feet of ants crawling over surfaces, winding their way through this grassy playground, has become normal. Their feet thunder as they go about their business, and it seems to be a normal cadence to life here in the underbrush, in the greenhouse. It is normal, and it is has become nothing to really concern oneself with. They are ants, after all, what do they do, but work? Endlessly, continuously.
That is, until the heavy, loud sounds of their feet draw closer to whatever place that the bearers have found to camp in. Whether solitary or as a group, these workers are no longer content to simply ignore the bearers, but they are a curiosity, perhaps even a bother. You have disrupted their lifestyle. The sleepy pattern of obtain food, return ot the hive, and back out again now has obstacles. Now there are not simply the fairies, who live their own lives and existences, a part of the ecosystem, but now there are these tiny bearers. Fighting, working together, arguing and disagreeing.
You are disruptive to their way of life.
The ants have come to collect on this due, and some bearers that are vulnerable, or perhaps merely caught, are taken away, your weight so light compared to the rest of their burdens that they carry. The strength of these ants is overwhelming, incredible at this size, and try as you might, if you are caught in their strong mandibles, you cannot escape. An ant, after all, carries 1000 times their weight with those powerful jaws. You, bearer, are nothing to them.
They squirrel away the bearers within their hill, a complicated network of tunnels, junctions, and large spaces. Down within, where the air becomes stifling, and stale. The ants guard their pray, and you get the distinct sense that they see you not as people, not even as enemies, but as prey. You will be food – perhaps to the eggs that are gathered within this room, where you can see the stirring of new life, just beneath the surface. You may not have very long to live, if these little larvae get their mouths on you.
Or perhaps, your friends will save you? Once it is discovered that bearers are missing, the trail of ant prints on the ground is apparent – they are not stealthy creatures – and the feet lead from the locations of several kidnapped bearers toward the grainy ant hill that lies not far away. The hill itself swarms with life, with worker ants all over the surface, scuttling about, looking for the next meal for te colony. Or perhaps for more bearers to bring back for their young.
It will be dangerous, bearers, to save your friends. Should you choose to do so, you will be kicking the anthill, and the ants will protect what is theirs. Even if they just took it. Those bearers belong to them, now! Rescuers will find not only your average worker ant, ready to defend, but winged male ants will attack from above, and deeper, within the nest, near where the bearers are kept, lies the strongest ant in the colony: The Queen. Staggeringly large, strong, and vicious, when her subjects begin dying. She will do everything in her power to protect her colony, and that includes killing bearers, if need be. Or trying, at least.
Good luck rescuing your friends, bearers!
That is, until the heavy, loud sounds of their feet draw closer to whatever place that the bearers have found to camp in. Whether solitary or as a group, these workers are no longer content to simply ignore the bearers, but they are a curiosity, perhaps even a bother. You have disrupted their lifestyle. The sleepy pattern of obtain food, return ot the hive, and back out again now has obstacles. Now there are not simply the fairies, who live their own lives and existences, a part of the ecosystem, but now there are these tiny bearers. Fighting, working together, arguing and disagreeing.
You are disruptive to their way of life.
The ants have come to collect on this due, and some bearers that are vulnerable, or perhaps merely caught, are taken away, your weight so light compared to the rest of their burdens that they carry. The strength of these ants is overwhelming, incredible at this size, and try as you might, if you are caught in their strong mandibles, you cannot escape. An ant, after all, carries 1000 times their weight with those powerful jaws. You, bearer, are nothing to them.
They squirrel away the bearers within their hill, a complicated network of tunnels, junctions, and large spaces. Down within, where the air becomes stifling, and stale. The ants guard their pray, and you get the distinct sense that they see you not as people, not even as enemies, but as prey. You will be food – perhaps to the eggs that are gathered within this room, where you can see the stirring of new life, just beneath the surface. You may not have very long to live, if these little larvae get their mouths on you.
Or perhaps, your friends will save you? Once it is discovered that bearers are missing, the trail of ant prints on the ground is apparent – they are not stealthy creatures – and the feet lead from the locations of several kidnapped bearers toward the grainy ant hill that lies not far away. The hill itself swarms with life, with worker ants all over the surface, scuttling about, looking for the next meal for te colony. Or perhaps for more bearers to bring back for their young.
It will be dangerous, bearers, to save your friends. Should you choose to do so, you will be kicking the anthill, and the ants will protect what is theirs. Even if they just took it. Those bearers belong to them, now! Rescuers will find not only your average worker ant, ready to defend, but winged male ants will attack from above, and deeper, within the nest, near where the bearers are kept, lies the strongest ant in the colony: The Queen. Staggeringly large, strong, and vicious, when her subjects begin dying. She will do everything in her power to protect her colony, and that includes killing bearers, if need be. Or trying, at least.
Good luck rescuing your friends, bearers!
IN SMALL PACKAGES ( DAYS NINE - TEN )
The day after the ant-pocalypse brings with it the brush of recognition — the Effigy has foreseen the likely victors, and calls to them to approach it once they have suitably recovered. It judges them the ones whom are most devoted to what binds them, loyal to memory and remembrance, and begins to clamor for them to restore to it what belongs rightfully. Thus begins a full day of resting, locating last-minute items, shoring up defenses and preparing for the sprint to the finish line.
Certainly your rivals will not allow you to simply walk to the Effigy unassailed and unchallenged.
Eat, rest, ensure your fellows are close and bolstered, for tomorrow begins the final rally.
On the morning of the tenth day, Meridian Shardbearers approach the Effigy with its five items in hand. In the midst of the mushroom ring, the Effigy stands as it had in the beginning — arms outstretched and back bowed skyward, gnarled fingers seeking contact with that which has been lost to it. It awaits, it strains, and even as it does, it requires one last test of ability. From the shadows of the towering mushrooms, the rasp of scale and soft hiss of a great beast descends upon the fae ring.
A gleaming garden snake, with glossy black and green stripes, blocks the way between approaching Shardbearers and the Effigy.
Between its bright eyes, pressed upon its brow is a scattering of brighter scales that appear to be in the shape of a delicate, three-leafed plant with spiraling patterns for leaves. It braces itself against the approach, and there is no doubt that to claim victory, the serpent must be subdued. Though Meridian approaches with victory in hand, they have not yet attained it — their rival faction and this beast remain in their way.
Certainly your rivals will not allow you to simply walk to the Effigy unassailed and unchallenged.
Eat, rest, ensure your fellows are close and bolstered, for tomorrow begins the final rally.
On the morning of the tenth day, Meridian Shardbearers approach the Effigy with its five items in hand. In the midst of the mushroom ring, the Effigy stands as it had in the beginning — arms outstretched and back bowed skyward, gnarled fingers seeking contact with that which has been lost to it. It awaits, it strains, and even as it does, it requires one last test of ability. From the shadows of the towering mushrooms, the rasp of scale and soft hiss of a great beast descends upon the fae ring.
A gleaming garden snake, with glossy black and green stripes, blocks the way between approaching Shardbearers and the Effigy.
Between its bright eyes, pressed upon its brow is a scattering of brighter scales that appear to be in the shape of a delicate, three-leafed plant with spiraling patterns for leaves. It braces itself against the approach, and there is no doubt that to claim victory, the serpent must be subdued. Though Meridian approaches with victory in hand, they have not yet attained it — their rival faction and this beast remain in their way.
MISSING LINKS ( THROUGHOUT )
As the Effigy desires to be reunited with what belongs to it, the swell of its longing stirs something more within all present Shardbearers.
With that foreign longing arrives knowledge: beyond the five items prized by the Effigy itself, there are other lost things within the greenhouse. Like a compass, each Shardbearer's mind points them in direction after direction, urging them to seek and explore. Implicitly, the thrum of comprehension fills your mind: these are things that do not belong to you, per se, but seek to have your hands ferry them home.
Amidst tangled brush, hidden under doffed acorn cap, tucked away in the belly of a fae's glittering den, lost in the depths of a puddle of spilled water that seems an insurmountable lake now, folded secretly into the petals of a towering, skyscraper-like flower, there are three additional items hidden within the tumultuous landscape that each Shardbearer feels a draw towards. Things that belong to someone else, eager to be reunited with them, but subject to whim.
Upon locating and retrieving one, the Shardbearer is filled with a sense of information — they know who this item belongs to, and they will know that they have a choice. Bonds are fragile things after all, and they exist to be enforced or abused, in order to advance a goal or to deepen a connection. How will you treat someone's precious bond? How will they treat yours?
With that foreign longing arrives knowledge: beyond the five items prized by the Effigy itself, there are other lost things within the greenhouse. Like a compass, each Shardbearer's mind points them in direction after direction, urging them to seek and explore. Implicitly, the thrum of comprehension fills your mind: these are things that do not belong to you, per se, but seek to have your hands ferry them home.
Amidst tangled brush, hidden under doffed acorn cap, tucked away in the belly of a fae's glittering den, lost in the depths of a puddle of spilled water that seems an insurmountable lake now, folded secretly into the petals of a towering, skyscraper-like flower, there are three additional items hidden within the tumultuous landscape that each Shardbearer feels a draw towards. Things that belong to someone else, eager to be reunited with them, but subject to whim.
Upon locating and retrieving one, the Shardbearer is filled with a sense of information — they know who this item belongs to, and they will know that they have a choice. Bonds are fragile things after all, and they exist to be enforced or abused, in order to advance a goal or to deepen a connection. How will you treat someone's precious bond? How will they treat yours?
NOTES
Here are some prompts to set the scene and foundation of the Exalt Oracle!
— The theme of this Oracle is a loose edition of capture the flag, where the Effigy's items can pass through multiple hands within the ten day allotment.
— For additional ideas and fun, it is known that several Shardbearers have concluded their efforts to fulfill the Greenwood Yards' sidequest request.
— All details of the Exalt Oracle can be found here, and questions for the mods can be submitted here.
— For additional ideas and fun, it is known that several Shardbearers have concluded their efforts to fulfill the Greenwood Yards' sidequest request.
— All details of the Exalt Oracle can be found here, and questions for the mods can be submitted here.
no subject
Big ol' chunk of almond in hand, Gen settles back in his seat and takes a big bite. It tastes a little bland to his smoke-fried taste buds, but -- whatever. The texture is more palatable than all the dandelion and roasted bug bits he's been eating, so he'll fucking take it. ]
Yeah, they do seem dangerous. [ Said with his mouth still full. ] Guess you can't just hide'em like a cat can, either, huh. At least they'll be useful if you get in a scrap with some Meridian pain in the ass.
[ Speaking of which -- Gen swallows, licks his lips, before continuing flatly, ]
An' I mean -- it's probably 'cause of the Meridians, isn't it? Been having trouble moving quickly once in a while since a little bit back, and I gotta imagine that's 'cause someone's been fucking with my stuff. Like we can fuck with other people by keeping their stuff, too. [ His expression darkens a touch as he speaks, and Gen huffs before taking another big bite. Between rude, loud chews: ] It's fucking annoying, is what it is. Exactly the sorta shit the Meridians would try to pull on us.
no subject
Just hasn't had the chance to do it consciously next. Hasn't run into any Meridians when like this.
He looks back up at Gen at the coldness in his voice, contemplative expression shifting to something more sympathetic. A soft little tilt to his head, eyes considering. ]
's what you do when you know you're gonna lose. Play dirty. I'd do the same thing, I guess. Still doesn't mean we won't crush 'em.
[ Because the outcome is obvious: that Zenith will win this Oracle; that Zenith will win all of them. Put an end to Meridian once and for all. He's confident in that, so there's no need to get too worked up about it. (That will come later.)
But it's like he's been reminded of something, the way Amos sits up straighter, ears perked up and alert, too. He shifts a little, lightly taps on his pants pocket to draw its attention to Gen, a soft clack coming from the way claw hits screen through fabric. ]
I found something of yours, though. Before this shit happened. [ Before Set was fucking with his stuff... ] Think I might break it now if I tried taking it out myself, but hey. It's all yours.
[ And in the pocket closest to Gen there is, in fact, a cellphone, ready and waiting to be claimed by its proper owner. ]
no subject
[ Truth be told, the thought that any of his other belongings might have ended up here had kind of been catapulted out of his brain the moment Reiji's shard had come into play -- everything else he owned had seemed paltry in comparison. Like, he was supposed to care if his clothes, or whatever else he had stored back in his room at Yima's manor, ended up here? Big whoop.
Still, Amos says he has something, so Gen has no reason to refuse it. He nods, pops the last bit of almond (how did he eat that huge chunk of almond so fast, don't worry about it) in his mouth, chewing slowly as he gingerly reaches into Amos' pocket to fish out the object. (No homo, even if he's rooting around another guy's pants.)
The glassy front sure feels familiar, but it's been so long since he's held it that it's not until Gen actually extracts the object and gets a look that his brain properly recognizes it. ]
My phone.
[ Complete with the little nicks and dings from times he'd carelessly dropped it on his desk or off the edge of his bed while falling asleep back home. It's definitely his phone. He automatically moves to turn it on, and after a moment of the screen showing the brand icon, it flickers to life; the battery charge is low, but there. And no connection, but that hardly matters. Amos is all but forgotten for a moment as Gen promptly goes to check the messages. Nothing new, of course. But just the fact that his old messages are there is ...
relieving. As Amos might feel sympathetically, a faint warmth glowing in the depth of his chest. ]
... I didn't even know it was here. In Kenos. [ Only then, he finally looks back up to Amos. ] You just found it out there?
no subject
Amos sits back down proper once Gen has collected his phone from him, breaking off another slice of almond for himself. An ear flicks in his direction at that sense of warmth he's picking up from him before he looks up, new chunk of almond speared in his claws. ]
Yeah. It was under a mushroom. Fuck if I know how it got there, but I just knew it was yours when I saw it.
[ And then there's some of Amos' own warm feelings perking up to meet Gen's, mix with his. Not because the phone means anything to him, of course, but because he did something that's made Gen happy, and that's all he really needs. ]
It holding up okay? I know that thing is fucking old by my standards — [ so bulky — ] but it's also way too advanced for anything else around here. Was kind of nice to see it, actually.
no subject
Fucking old, huh. [ Damn. He's so appreciative of the fact that Amos started like him -- as just a normal human being, no magic bullshit or godly powers -- that he sometimes forgets Amos isn't from a normal time. ] This was, like, the latest model, you know ...
[ Still. Ribbing aside, the unexpected return of this item goes a long way in soothing his nerves. Gen definitely seems calmer when he locks his phone and pockets it -- a gesture so baked into his reflexes that it comes natural as anything, even after over a year without his phone. ]
That reminds me, though. I found something of yours, too. One of your guns. [ A tilt of the head towards the other side of camp. ] It was annoying enough to carry that I hid it, but it should be in good condition, still. You should have it back, I just forgot about it. [ And maybe that's an odd thing to forget about, a whole-ass gun? But he has his excuses, obviously. Gen breathes a low sigh, murmuring half to himself when he adds, ] ... I was so distracted by all the shit that happened. Thought our stuff showing up here was just for the worse. Guess it's not all bad.
no subject
His ears perk up fully when Gen says he found something of his, though, a light hm? emanating from his throat as he finishes eating, turns his attention in the direction Gen indicates. ]
Yeah? Hey, thanks. [ Atsumu had already returned his blaster-style gun to him, so Amos figures that this one has to be the older one he'd received recently. The one that shoots bullets. Because he only has two guns here, and there's no possible way that any others of his would show up. ] Glad to hear that it's still doing alright; those're things I don't wanna fuck around with. Although...
[ He turns his attention back to his hands. Claws. And sighs, forlorn. ]
Can't really do anything with it as long as my hands're like this, huh. Still wish I knew where the fuck this came from, 'cause I'm definitely not pulling any triggers when I'm stuck with these. Hopefully it goes away soon.
[ Life's hard when you're a bear who can't shoot a gun. Or... something. They really had been normal once, hadn't they? It's weird to think about now.
He shrugs it off, light smile gracing his face once again. ]
I get it. I've roughed it before, but it's extra shit here, and doesn't help that Meridian's fucking around either. We just... We take what we can get, I guess. Use it. Effigy wants us to work together, right? We're doing that right now. Could be worse.
no subject
Yeah, I get it. Guess it's not gonna be too useful for you until you get turned back to normal, huh. Unless you wanna start just clubbing people with it, or something.
[ Said with a lopsided grin, because he can't imagine Amos acting so barbarically with one of those guns that he likes so much. (Funny how Amos won't be the one to use a gun as a cudgel anytime soon.) ]
You might as well take it back, though. Who knows if you might get turned back to normal tomorrow or something -- might as well have it on hand for that. I'll grab it for you in a bit.
[ But while Amos' mood seems to lighten with the thought that the Exalt effigy is bringing them together -- Gen's expression turns pensive. It's partly because he's had enough almond for the moment, and partly because his appetite wanes when thinking about the subject at hand, but he only stares pensively into the fire for a moment, elbows propped against his knees and hands laced.
His brow's furrowed when he speaks again. ]
... d'you know what kinda stuff ended up here? The stuff that belongs to you. Is it just your weapons? [ Amos doesn't have another person's shard he's been guarding, right? Then -- has something else just as important to him been brought here? Or is it just some cruel mistake that Reiji ended up here? ]
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I got no clue. I know I would've brought a gun with me if I could, but they weren't on me when I woke up. Atsumu found my other one. [ His voice does warm up a tick at that, because surprise, of course he likes all of the Zenite teens. ] If there's anything else of mine out there I dunno what it'd be. I only got two guns here.
[ And why else would anything else of his be out there? He doesn't care?? He knows he's not normal for not caring, but that's his situation... so... ]
Not like a phone's a weapon, so I don't know why that'd be out here with my stuff. Or anyone else's. [ Yeah he's not following what the Effigy and/or Oracle had in mind; surely this should be weapons-based only. ] I don't even get why those things we're chasing after are so important to the Effigy. It's kinda just junk.
[ ... A beat, before he sits up straighter, voice perking up a little, because why be confused when you've got something to look forward to? Namely, his other gun. ]
But yeah, obviously I'm getting my gun back from you. [ Decidedly not junk!! ] You know how much I've been looking after that thing? 'course I want it, even if I can't shoot it. Not like this is going to last forever.
[ His stupid claws,
and ears, which are admittedly easier to forget about and therefore not annoying, ]
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[ But it clear he's distracted from the subject, brow furrowed deeply as he stares into the fire. Hands clasped tighter, the nails digging into the leather of his prosthetic's gloved hand as he mulls over something for a moment longer before continuing. ]
It's not weapons. I think ... I think it's just stuff we care about in some way. The stuff that ended up here.
[ It's the only answer that even vaguely makes sense. Other than Sebastian's glove -- an item he hadn't bothered to investigate deep into, especially since something of that size would be hard to hunt down -- everything else has been consistent in that vein. Amos cares about his guns. Set cares about those jars, whatever they might be. For himself, he does care about his phone. And -- ]
Reiji -- the shard I asked you to take care of. It ended up here. [ Gen's voice is tense as he says it, casting his gaze off to the side. Leather creaks under the tightness of his grip before he forces himself to loosen it, lest he sprain something; now would be a bad time to compromise his own grip strength, he reminds himself. ] I dunno why, and I dunno why the Effigy's stuff is so important. But maybe the Effigy's tryin' to make us feel the same way it's feeling. Dragging in the stuff we care about and getting it lost. ... s'a shitty fucking joke, if that's what it is.
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So he frowns, his ears wiggling in Gen's direction, instinctually trying to be a better listener, pick up what he's clearly missing. Stuff he cares about seems a... plausible enough theory, though Amos wouldn't say he cares about his guns that much—
His heart bottoms out at the mention of Reiji's shard, a sudden drop that Gen might feel it for himself, plummeting off the edge of the world without warning. Amos doesn't look away, just... he swallows, horrified at the prospect that it would be out here. No, he doesn't have any shards of his own to look after (Adelfoúla aside, but that's different — she's alive, here and on Kenos — but Gen... ]
I kept it safe. [ His voice is a whisper at first, Amos unable to put any real volume into it as he croaks his protest out. ] I... It shouldn't have ended up here, it couldn't have...
[ He lets out a low, shaky breath, turning to stare down at his claws instead. ]
No. No, that's not right. [ There is a surge of anger, matching Gen's emotions towards the Effigy... and helplessness along with it. Because he'd unknowingly failed Gen; because... ] We can't even do anything about it. Gotta get that thing's shit back for it so we can get the Oracle... [ And he brings one of those paws up to rub at his face in frustration, mindful of the claws. ] I dunno. Maybe... maybe something after.
[ This sucks. Amos stares into the fire, stares at nothing. ]
Guess we're just at its mercy for the time being, huh.
[ It's their aspect, even. Fuck this. ]