kenoslogs | THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

Sweet dreams are made of Bliss

As the twilight falls, and bearers begin to tuck in for their evenings on the night of the 15th of March (OOC time) and whether they tuck themselves into bed fully, or simply drift away in the middle of their dinner, work, indulgences, or what have you; bearers will fall into a deep, deep sleep. Perhaps you slump in your chair, or you wrap your arms around a teddy bear, or partner, or cup a precious shard in your sleep, it doesn’t matter, because as you drift away, into a sleep that seems to tug you under like the undertow itself, a question will echo in bearer’s minds: “If given the choice, would you show compassion in the face of adversity?”

It sticks with you, even as you fall into a dreamless sleep. As if it rotates in your mind, over and over, letting you worm over that. You know for certain what it is, that it is the calming, soothing voice of the Oracle, reaching out to you across the ether, telling you – promise you – that if you accept its promise, you will find that the Oracle could be in your hands. That thought leads you to dream of something else – of home, or your loved ones – of what you are fighting this war for. Even as you dream, you feel a presence next to you, and unlike the Harbinger’s winding, rough digging, this is more akin to a friend, who is asking you soft, coaxing questions. Things like: what was your childhood like? What were your friends like? What did you do? You cannot help but think of them, think of your home and your loved ones. Of where you came from, and how it made you what you are.

The advocate seeks to understand you, and where you come from. You can feel it, that overwhelming Acceptance and love from it, even as you reminisce, compelled to answer the multitude of questions, you can feel something building behind you, around you. “Don’t you want them all to understand this?” the impression is given through communion, and you cannot help but answer: yes.

Click your Heels together, Dorothy!

As you awake for the first time, it’s alien, the world that meets you. New smells fill your nostrils, new sights, the gravity is perhaps different than you’ve gotten used to on Kenos, even those slight shifts enough to make the world feel wholly different. You remember the advocate’s words, and it wants you to feel what it feels. Understanding. Compassion, and perhaps there is a sense that doing so would hurt yourself in turn, if you understood too much. That is the advocate’s way, after all, isn’t it?

You feel an inexorable, slight tug in your chest. Something subtle and gentle, the slightest of sensations, that gives you a direction. You know it, your mind only just now comprehending the advocate’s confusing impressions via communion, that there is something of this world’s… Soul/center/heart or whatever word you want to use for it. Something about this world that will help you along your path, and help you with the results you so desire. You know it will not guarantee a victory, but surely it will help. Especially as your numbers dwindle from world to world. You are left with an impression from the Advocate -- if you die, they cannot bring you back. There is apology in this, but alone, one oracle is limited. Only united, can they truly change your fate.

The lingering presence of the advocate starts to fade. You know this is a bearer’s world, if not your own. You look around, to see perhaps a familiar face nearby? Or perhaps you are alone. Does it matter? You know that this place belongs to a bearer, but whether they are a friend or an enemy, one has to begin to determine that. You’ll need your wits, you’ll need your strength and resolve to make it to the end of this, won’t you?

After all, as bearers were recently reminded: this is War. This is not simply the fate of this world, but perhaps all, as it will require you to find the answer to this question. So you start to move, you start to look around, explore, and search. For the soul of each world, for the bearers that lie dreaming within, and your foes that will seek you out. Stay steadfast, for the way out will come, if you make it to the end. The longer you spend in each world, however, the more the shadows look darker, and deeper. Hungrier. The more the spaces seem smaller or compressed. As if there is something gnawing away at the sides, making their way to the heart.

Around the world in ~~60 seconds~~ 12 hours

When you find yourself at the end, when you close your eyes – only a blink, but it hangs, as if the momentary motion is enough to suspend you into a suspended space before. You can see the two options stretched out before you – metaphysically – the impression of it. A long, long shadow cast over one. As if there is a presence hovering over and above, like waiting jaws, ready to strike. In the other, there remains…nothing. It is not pleasant, it is not comforting, it simply… is. A sense that there is now a lack of anything, almost like it had never existed before.

Does this world have value? You can feel the Advocate ask. Do you want to give them a chance to live? Or does should this world cease, is there nothing here to save?

And though you are compelled, required to answer, you know this question for what it is. Short-sighted. Both, in the end, will lead to its destruction, but which will you choose? Will you allow the world to continue, even with that long shadow cast, like a hungry beast with snapping jaws; or will you erase it from existence and spare it that oncoming apocalypse?

Catch [???] Winks

The last world’s fate decided, bearers float in an endless sea of stars. You can see them all, spread before you. Intermittently, they wink out, swallowed into the darkness, consumed as the shadows, that inky-black nothingness grows ever-larger. It looks upon you, bearers. It is nothing, but you have its attention, and your blood runs cold, your limbs frozen. You cannot move, you cannot speak, you cannot breathe. You feel it, the power of being drawn into it, like it wants to consume you. Like it knows you.

T̸̢̼̯͓̬̘́̀̋̆͊h̷͔̣̱̝͍̬̣͕̄̂͗̆͒͌͜ͅẹ̶̱̩̅͒̿̇͠ ̵̭̹͇͖̔̀ṃ̸̢̧͙̟̼̜͌͆̍͝͝ͅo̴̟̞̓̆̇̐̆͊̽͆̂̀r̶͈̺̮̠͙̗͌ę̸̤̻̈́͐͂̓̊͐̂͆ ̵̡̛͎̩̳̤͔͚̱̼̆̒̓y̴̺̞̹̺̝̤͂ǫ̷̡̣̱̥͊̈́̓͑̕͘ű̵̼͜͜ ̶̨̨̝̟̘̱͇̲̻̪̊͂̽̈̒͊f̴̱̐͌̌̓̋̔́̀͝i̶͖̤͎̬̝̦͒̂g̸̳̰̟̀̓̽̈́̐h̸̼͍̮͎̊̅͗͊̈͋̽̀͘t̴͔͚́̓,̷̨̧̱̠̙̠̙̱̒̍̽̾ ̷̖̰̼̬̟͐̊̂t̶̖̄͂̅̃̍͐̊̑̅͜͝h̴̢̛͙̪̞̫̝̺̋̅̿͛̇̚͝͝ͅͅȩ̶͉̤͍̠́̈͑̏͋̚͘͝ ̸̢̨̧͚̖̤̪̬̪̀̉̐͗̂͆͑̚̕̚c̴̠̩̳͎̲̪͔̟̈́͂̉͑́l̶̡̲̻̣̘̏́ͅo̶̢̧͔͈̬̳̰͈̝̻͌̋̆̃͒͗̏͘ş̴̪̺̣̥̎̽̿͗̒́͛̕̚̚e̴̺͍̤͖͂̇͑͂̋͂̆̾r̴̨̩̈́͋͠ ̷̧͚̲̩̖̋͒̉́͗y̶̘̖̝̑̈͊ǒ̵͚̽u̵͎͍̇̀̏̊̕͝ŕ̷͎̜̘͙̀̋ ̶͇̲̝̞̖̝̣̘̝̬͋d̷͔͈͔̀̿õ̴̝̯͇̹̘̏͗͜ö̵͚͓͆m̵͉̦̫̥̦̞̫͐̆͐̿͊͒͌͋͜.̷̼͈̻̥̜̾̏͐̾̐͆͘͜

You gasp, as you startle awake, and open your eyes for the first time in a long time.

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Sober regard of Matt reveals that he's looking very typical. Hair a nest, expression inquisitive (shading to relief as Liem explains the blood isn't his). He has a ribbon around his neck, black silk edged with gold, and he's wearing a shirt and trousers of the sort favored in Highstorm. Not surprising, really: He started off his time here living with Amos.

He's not presently injured, it's true. But one of his sleeve cuffs rides up as he smooths himself down, revealing a peek of a recent-ish scar. ]

Sounds like down's where I should be then, yeah. [ His expression shifts to one of faint hope. ] Wherever you're going, though, I could protect you. Make shields and things. We never really got into it, but I was pretty good at that during the attack.

[ The one on Springstar, of course. He doesn't tend to think of what happened in Highstorm the same way, for reasons he hasn't fully unpacked but which likely involve civilian casualties. ]

[Liem’s observation of Matt drifts down his arms as Matt straightens himself out, hands travelling over a body that thankfully seems to be uninjured as of now. The lack of zombie bites is promising, but for just a moment, Liem’s eyes catch on a small mark on one wrist, showing fresh and pink against the pale skin: another kind of bite mark, and one he is intimately familiar with.

When he looks back up at Matt’s face, his expression is carefully neutral.]

During the attack? [he echoes. He assumes Matt must mean Zenith’s attack on Springstar, but he can’t recall having seen Matt there, immediately before or after. In fact, he hasn’t seen Matt around Heliopolis at all in the times he’s been there, and he certainly didn’t note his presence in Meridian’s group communion in the days before the Oracle trial began.

Realization sinks into him reluctantly.]

Ah… [Should he be associating with him, then? During the Oracle trial, their aims are surely not aligned.] I don’t need protection. You would be better served saving your magic for other passengers.

[ Matt can't tell what Liem's expression might mean, even without the barrier of tinted lenses to separate them. But his words, at least, he reads loud and clear. ]

Oh, [ he says, clearly disappointed. ] Well, um, if you're sure ...

Then I guess I'll see you later? [ Something about this feels unfinished, but Matt doesn't know what. Nor is he sure what he might ask Liem to clear things up. "Are you mad at me" is the kind of painfully clingy question he strives never to voice, and besides that, it's inelegant. There are so many other feelings that can move a person. ] Thanks for the tip, about ...

[ He gestures in the direction Liem's come from. Technically there are stairwells down all up and down the Campania, but he recalls there being one nearby. Though before he can make himself walk past, he finds himself adding: ]

Are you sure I can't at least send you off with some good luck?

[Matt’s obvious and immediate disappointment summons an unhappy twinge behind Liem’s ribs. Surely it’s the most reasonable thing in the world for him to keep Zenith’s members at arm’s length, especially in the midst of an Oracle trial. But he cannot help but feel like he’s being unfair to Matt, who is still new to this conflict and who has only ever shown a desire to help the people around him.

He should let Matt go on his way. If he gets mauled by the zombie hoard down below, that’s his business, not Liem’s.

But he can’t stop himself from caring.]

Maybe. I’ll be heading back down, as well; you can come with me if you like.

[It could help his search to have Matt with him, but on some level he knows that isn’t why he offers.]

What are you looking for down there?

[ The turnabout takes Matt by surprise. He brightens, though he feels a simultaneous sinking guilt. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to convince Liem at all, so he wouldn't've felt like he had to say yes?

An emotional quandary for a time with fewer zombies, Matt decides. For now, he strives to keep things simple: He nods, and moves to follow Liem down the hall. ]

This might sound kind of strange, [ he hedges. ] But I think I'm looking for the Advocate. [ He steals a glance at Liem to try and gauge whether he does, in fact, find it strange. ] I tried talking to them before--I mean, I tried asking them things, not just giving answers. But they weren't really amenable. And they were really hard to get a read on, magically speaking. But if these worlds are their creation, in some sense ... their dreams ... then there must be some thread of them in here. And maybe helping people is the way to find that thread, or pull on it.

Hm.

[Liem isn’t sure he necessarily agrees with all of Matt’s supposition, or expects that interacting with these worlds in any particular way might allow him to commune with the Advocate, but he supposes he has no proof to the contrary. In any case, even if Matt isn’t right, Liem sees no reason to convince him to abandon his current occupation.]

This way. I was heading for the section C stairs.

[Given the state of the ship below, it had seemed both faster and easier to come up here and seek the stairs down again, rather than navigate through the hordes the entire way. He continues on, slowly at first as he looks to see if Matt is following along, then more quickly, wary of the distant sounds of shuffling and screaming from other parts of the ship.]

Is that what you’ve been doing for the last couple worlds? Looking for some sign of it, since it’s the one that brings us to these places?

[ It feels tenuous to Matt too. He was warned he wouldn't really be able to prepare for the Oracle trials, and he realizes he was assuming there'd be some physical manifestation of them. Something to interface with, scry into.

Still, he has to try. He knows he doesn't want to play the game as it's presented to them. ]

Yeah, [ he agrees. He's a little ways behind Liem, but picks up his pace when Liem does. ] I have this idea about it, which ... honestly, I got from Set. [ Matt's not sure if it's awkward to bring up Set to Liem? After the whole thing where Set dragged him around Liem's guest bedroom mattress like a beautiful sleep paralysis demon, and then they both cried, and then Set left to presumably go be intimate with Liem, and then the next day Matt was like welp, bye without explaining any of that? Is it awkward? ] That there was a Shard-Bearer who eventually became the Iconoclast Oracle. So I've been trying to track down the Advocate and figure out, um. Who they used to be.

[The situation at Liem’s home would probably be awkward if he dwelled on it for long enough to let it become so, but Liem quite deliberately doesn’t do that. He can’t be too upset with Set for effectively chasing Matt from his home when he was freshly unearthed and still newly grieving, even if he now has to wonder if Matt might not have gone back to Zenith if he’d been able to stay. Perhaps things could have been different.]

Even if that’s true, I don’t know if exploring these worlds will tell you much about them.

[Their progress takes them down a relatively abandoned-looking middle-class hallway and toward a sturdy looking door, behind which Liem strongly suspects are more walking dead. The ones he’s seen seemed to have been seeking the upper levels, perhaps sensing the mass of people up above, even from down in the ship’s cargo hold.]

The places are ours, yes? That makes them more our dreams than the Advocate’s, I’d think.

[ Matt pulls a face. ]

Maybe the details are ours. [ Semi-willingly as the information was offered, Matt can confirm that everything he said was true. True as he recalls it, which isn't quite the same thing as true objectively--though that just goes to Liem's point. ] But none of this infrastructure would be possible without the Advocate, so I guess ...

I don't know. Maybe the only way to get in touch would be to ask the Tree, like they did before. But either way, I'd rather test out my hypothesis than try to fight people over a dream.

[ No offense .......?

As they near the door, Matt senses--or possibly projects--some hesitation on Liem's part. He slows to a halt. Then he points to the door, glancing to Liem as if to say, Go through, or what? ]

I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, [Liem muses.] Maybe you’d be better off seeking whoever shared this place with the Advocate; they could be the navigator allowing us to reach this reality, so to speak, even if the Oracle provided the means. In the same way the Sunbeams are meant to guide the Meridian back to their own worlds, to allow them to be plucked from the void.

[He’d think a single Oracle wouldn’t be capable of actually bringing fallen worlds back for a trial like this, particularly considering he’s almost certain the first two worlds shown to them were those of Zenites, but he’s been given to understand that the Timestream is a mutable thing. Perhaps the worlds they are visiting are only mirrors of the ones that were already destroyed, just distant enough from their native realities to have escaped Oblivion’s hunger until now.

When they come to the door, Liem glances at Matt, noting his pointing finger. The muffled sound of scraping and thumping from beyond makes it clear that the stairway is indeed occupied.]

Stay well behind me, [he advises.] If there’s a manageable number inside, we can head down after they’re dispatched. Otherwise, we’re better off trying to seal the door.

[He’s going to open it, unless Matt has strong feelings to the contrary.]

That'd be Sebastian, [ Matt sighs fondly, and shakes his head. ] I just left him. But that's an interesting idea--maybe I can call him after this and see if he's willing to test it.

[ Matt has already taken up a lot of Sebastian's limited time on this venture, even if it was in the interests of helping him. Still, he won't rule out reaching out by Communion, assuming these cannibal creatures don't pose too much of a hindrance.

The increasingly loud thumps suggest they might be kind of a problem. ]

I do have magical powers, [ Matt protests, though in a more or less amused tone. And he does fall back behind Liem with no further complaint. ] Speaking of--one sec.

[ He draws in a sharp breath, one that catches lightly in his throat. There's a sense of light, and warmth, and in the time it takes to think as sun and moon are not afraid, nor ever suffer loss or harm, a sun-warm energy swirls around them, sinking into Liem's skin. ]

[Liem definitely notes and disapproves of the fond way with which Matt sighs Sebastian’s name, but he’d seem like a busybody and probably a bigot if he made an issue of it, especially since Matt has already chosen to side with Zenith already. Maybe Sebastian’s pleasing manner is part of what lured Matt over to Highstorm to begin with, but there’s also almost no way he’s unaware of the demon’s true nature by now. Liem opts just to leave the issue.

He does smile faintly, though, when Matt says “I do have magical powers.”]

Thank you.

[The spell could be the luck Matt offered earlier, or anything else, but Liem has little fear of the undead past the door regardless. After only a brief pause and a nod, he moves to the door and opens it.

The good news is there is only a slow trickle of zombies currently wandering up the stairs, leaving the stairway mostly empty; the bad is that a small cluster of zombies has already gathered at the door, and they immediately fight to get through it once the way is open. The first to emerge, a well dressed man, gets Liem’s dagger through one eye. While he’s busy stabbing, he catches an older woman around the throat with his free arm, trips her and sends her sprawling backwards, into the living corpse directly behind.

The moves are practised, to be certain, and seem to suggest more strength than one would expect from Liem’s build—but that isn’t why Liem suggested he go first. Even his regeneration is only a slight factor. More relevant, and more apparent as the zombies continue to lunge at the doorway, is that not a single one of them seems to attack Liem, or even notice him, even as he blocks their route through. All of them are trying to go straight for Matt.]

[ Matt can't help a triumphant little grin for managing to make Liem smile. It fades quickly, but only because the presence of zombies seems to demand all his concentration.

It's strange. Matt doesn't relish the sight of violence, even against beings that want to eat them. But watching Liem in motion, moving with such devastating efficiency--it's really impressive. Beautiful, even. It can't be the result of his luck spell (right, sorry Liem, it was a luck spell), but maybe Liem doesn't need luck.

At first, Matt's mostly preoccupied trying to think of ways he can be helpful. Other spells he might be able to cast, any objects lying around that might be used to bash in a skull. But eventually, he notices that their attackers don't seem to be trying to get at Liem--they're trying to get past him.

Jesus, he can't taste that good. Matt's eyes narrow. He sucks in another quick breath. ]

Watch out in front, [ he calls. A golden shield weaves itself between Liem and the pearl-draped woman trying to reach past him. It's only a short one, maybe knee height: Matt hopes it's enough to trip or stymie the woman while not hindering Liem too much.

He also hopes he doesn't have to cast too many more spells. They're small, but they're beginning to add up. ]

[Matt’s help is definitely appreciated, because for all that the zombies in the stairwell don’t seem to pay Liem any mind, multitasking between killing them and keeping them from pouring out into the corridor is still a big ask. He’s learned already that not much other than a strike to the brain will do them in, so most of his attention is by necessity spent on fending off the tide and looking for openings for a well-placed stab.

It is messy, demanding work. He has to be glad of the fact that it still hasn’t been too terribly long since he’s fed, but even so, by the time a couple more zombies are piled on the floor, he has by necessity got more blood on his nice robes.

One of the last couple zombies manages to stumble over Matt’s barrier as Liem’s busy dealing with another suit-wearing corpse. At least the obstacle means it falls to all fours before it lurches on like a mindless animal in humanoid skin. Liem half-turns, his dagger still buried in zombie skull.]

Matt—!

[ Matt's definitely paying attention to everything going on. It's just that his brain is also rapidly cycling through every spell he knows, trying to come up with something useful to do, since bare-handed combat seems decidedly unproductive. If only he had some way to slow these things down, restrain them somehow ...

He can't tell strictly what order things happen in. One moment, he's watching Liem anxiously, trying to think of ways to help; next, one of the creatures is scrambling towards him, pure hunger in the lurch of its limbs.

And Matt thinks, oh.

He breathes, a long, loud inhale like he's preparing to dive underwater. Light weaves around him like a long coil of golden rope. His hands move, almost as if the light were a real rope he could tug on.

It loops around the creature's arms in a rough handcuff configuration, causing it to crash to the floor. Only two problems: One is that the creature doesn't stop coming for Matt. It now has to move more awkwardly, half a squirm and half military crawl, but its mouth is open and teeth bared. The second problem is Matt. He tries to scurry back out of range, but it's more of a stagger. He's surprisingly winded. ]

Liem--

Edited 2024-04-03 19:32 (UTC)

[Liem has to rip himself free of the dead zombie, which is now clinging dumbly to him as it goes motionless with his dagger lodged in its head. He tears the blade out and shoves the thing back, turning fully in time to see the other undead crash to the hall floor with light hobbling its arms. The single-mindedness with which it continues to crawl toward its prey is upsetting to observe, even from behind.

He leaps after it, dipping to grab one shoulder and flip the ravenous, person-looking thing over. It flails, trying to right itself, and almost succeeds in whacking him across the face before he forces its bound arms up over its head and drives his blade into its eye.

At which point he pauses, still straddling the corpse, to try to calm his racing system. Matt isn’t the only one who’s a little out of breath.]

Are you well? [he asks, looking up at Matt. He didn’t see the creature actually touch him, but frankly, he wouldn’t blame Matt for deciding he didn’t want to plunge deeper into the zombie-infested ship after all. Most people would definitely be running the other direction by now.] If there are still people in the lower levels, there will certainly be more of those between them and us.

[ Matt has landed with his back to the wall, breath coming quick. It takes him a moment to slow himself down again. ]

Oh, I'm f-- [ A stutter of a pause, as he looks back to Liem and sees he's still on top of the corpse he just dispatched. ] --ine. I'm fine. [ He takes a step towards him, offering his hand to help Liem up (and a lopsided smile). In the heat of the moment, he forgets any concerns about keeping his wrists covered. ] I know we're running on a tight schedule here, but maybe a quick break? Just so I can catch my breath.

[ Maybe meditate for a few minutes. Like dancing, fighting seems to use different muscles than Matt's used to, even when he's only participating at a distance. He's still not sure what his body needs in these circumstances. ]

[Liem feels bad about accepting Matt’s hand up while he’s still straddling a dead, very obviously human person, but he does grab the offered hand once he’s removed his dagger from the corpse’s eye and wiped it on their suit. Again, he’s struck by the glimpse of pink scar staring at him from the bare skin of Matt’s wrist. He had thought it just a bite mark before, but now he notices a second, fainter mark peeking out near the first.]

For now. [As long as no other zombies shamble upon them, that is. Perhaps Liem should slide the corpses somewhere, and close the stairwell door.

But when he gets to his feet, he doesn’t let go of the offered hand.]

Matthew— Is this a recent injury? [He turns the hand he’s holding until the marks on Matt’s wrist stare back at him.] Have you been letting someone bite you?

[ Matt's new to combat, but his brain will always hook onto a puzzle to solve. So he's well down a mental corridor of battle planning (find a room to hole up in for a few minutes, maybe drink some water, steal snacks from the dining area) when Liem asks his questions. Matt's eyes widen slightly. ]

I--

[ He doesn't try to pull away from Liem, but he surprises himself by wanting to. Or rather, not wanting to, but not knowing what else to do. He can't say no, of course. That would sound like "I haven't been letting people bite me," and ...

He did. Even the first time, he did. Silco said stop struggling and he stopped. ]

Yeah, [ he says, with the verbal equivalent of a shrug. His eyes lift to Liem's, and he offers a small smile. ] Just helping out.

[Though Liem keeps his expression neutral when Matt confirms his suspicion, that little smile as he says “just helping out” makes concern carve a frown between his brows. Somehow, this is worse than him accidentally stumbling on some deviance of Matt’s sex life. It cleaves too uncomfortably close to the other times he has made Liem worry about his willingness to let others harm him, to view pieces of himself as expendable in service to other goals.

(And yes, maybe Liem is that way too—but this isn’t about him.)

Refusing to concede to that obviously deliberate casual tone, Liem sheathes his dagger so his left hand can join his right, folding Matt’s warmer hand between them.]

No vampire here needs you to let them prey on you—and I don’t want to bring you somewhere dangerous if you’re still unwell because of it.

[ Liem's brow furrows, and Matt realizes with a sinking feeling that he's said the wrong thing. He frowns as Liem takes his hand in both of his. Not because the contact is unwelcome--on the contrary. Matt can't help imagining how nice it would've felt that night in Kowloon, if anyone had taken his injured hand with such a cool, gentle touch.

Still: ]

It's not like that, [ he protests, bristling a little for the word prey. ] And I'm not unwell. I just helped you, didn't I?

[ I'm not a child, he wants to insist, except that even in his head, nothing in the world sounds more childish. Though even if he were a child, it's not like they aren't staffed up with teen soldiers around here. ]

I wanted a break, but I don't need one.

[Liem presses his lips together, observing Matt’s expression in an effort to avoid simply talking past him. He seems defensive; maybe Liem made him feel unappreciated in dealing with the zombies so far? He’s sure Matt wants to be of help, and more than that, he’s sure that Matt feels he has help to give, and doesn’t want to be overlooked.]

You did help me, [he agrees.] And I appreciate that—but that’s not what this is about. I’m just… concerned.

[Again. Just like he’d ended up saying the first time they met in Kenos, when he showed Matt around some of Springstar. It’s not that he thinks Matt is incapable, but he also seems so consistently willing to run into danger, and ultimately—

He’s come here alone. Matt doesn’t really know anyone else in Kenos, not anyone he actually remembers, and Liem doesn’t know if the people Matt might consider calling for help are even trustworthy. If there even are people he would call for help.]

I can’t not be, when you got here without knowing anyone and you have marks like this.

A lot of people get here without knowing anyone, [ Matt says. He can feel himself sounding querulous and hates it, but he isn't sure how to change course. Nor can he bring himself to pull away from Liem; he feels stupid and vulnerable, but he doesn't want to reject him while he's offering some kind of affirmation. ] I know I--got hurt, before--

[ A great euphemism for "was missing a hand," good going Matt. ]

--But everybody here gets some kind of hurt. Right? And I've been in--I've had arrangements with vampires before, relationships. I know what I'm doing. [ Stuck for what else to say, positive he's only making Liem less convinced, Matt sputters, ] Everyone else who knew me before thinks I can handle it.

[For a moment, Liem does contemplate letting go of Matt’s hand. Perhaps he’s been holding it overlong; his sense of decorum suggests that this contact is probably more intimate than is really expected of someone Matt has only met three times.

But he still remembers the relief that had seemed to sink into Matt when he’d touched him on that rooftop in Venera; and before that, he remembers Matt’s hurt when Liem had pulled away from him in the caverns beneath Achamoth, scarcely after they’d met.]

It isn’t that you got hurt, [he says quietly.] It’s that you chose to sacrifice your hand because you wanted to do something meaningful. Or to have something meaningful.

Maybe you do know what you’re doing, but I still don’t want you to be in a situation where you end up spending pieces of yourself like currency.

[ Matt's eyes widen abruptly. His stomach plunges.

I cut it off? he doesn't manage to ask, though his lips part like he might be about to. For all his horror, there's not a hint of incredulity on his face. This version of Matt was never in that cave in Horos, his insides crawling with despair, his every desperate prayer unanswered. But sacrifice to do something meaningful ... that strikes him as something he might do. Something he is doing, even, through this bargain with Silco. ]

No wonder you've been worried, [ Matt murmurs. ] Shit.

[ His free hand comes to cover Liem's. He's not really thinking about how this might look; he just wants to assure Liem that he hears his concern. More than hears it--accepts it. For a moment after, Matt's quiet, trying to figure out what to say. ]

I want to try and stay who I am, [ he says eventually. His tone is soft. An attempt at soothing. ] A part of me is willing to make sacrifices to help other people, and I don't want to lose that. But I promise you, I'm not doing it like that. [ A huff of breath, not quite enough for either sigh or laugh. ] For one thing, blood cells replace themselves. Giving up a few isn't, you know--permanent.

[ At the back of his mind, Matt wonders why nobody else has told him what that other him did. Not Sebastian or Silco, they don't seem like they'd necessarily care. But Amos?

Maybe Amos was building up to it before they argued. ]

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cw: idk the self-blame here messed ME up, so proceed at ur own risk

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