[ Loathe as he is to spend any of his sand — to lose any of it — a guy's gotta eat. It's exchanging one weakness for another; lose some of his life source, or lose energy vital to keeping him alive to begin with. It's an ugly tradeoff.
Which might explain why that mason jar is as close to him as it is, one large arm wrapped firmly around it, tucked in the crook of his elbow — if he had to spend his own life source just to eat then he is keeping all of this for himself, fuck you very much. Amos is seated in a corner, walls to his back and side, leaving him less open to ambush; he is also seated as far away as possible from anything that looks even remotely blighted. It isn't even the blight itself, as every now and then he'll look up, staring at that blue glow some of the plants sport like it's going to come to life and attempt to consume him. Call it a prior parallel experience he doesn't want to take any chances with.
He tenses as he hears footsteps, using that arm to pull his jar in closer to his person as he lifts his head, stares in your direction. If he recognizes you — either as Zenith or a close friend — then his body will slacken and he'll loosen his hold on the jar, opting to simply return to eating, no worse for the wear.
But if he doesn't recognize you — or knows you to be Meridian — then he'll bare his teeth at you, hackles up, food firmly within his grasp, and snap, ] What?
[ He's a hungry animal and this is his kill. He'll tear your throat out if he has to; maybe even regain some of the sand he had to spend on it from your own. ]
ii. hall of mirrors
[ At some point, he's going to have to map out this maze — and maybe it's better to do it now, when he's still got some sand to spare, than to wait until it might be too late. Especially with the way that otter is, since he doesn't trust him one bit.
It's easy going, at first. Amos isn't sure what to make of the sturdiness of the ice, so he uses his gravity magic to make himself lighter, just in case. And then he can practically glide through, cover plenty of ground with relative efficiency.
Get so used to his own reflections that he doesn't even notice when one moves independently of him, stepping outside of its mirror to grab him from behind, try to wrestle him into a chokehold.
Amos sputters, grabbing at the arm around his neck with both hands in an attempt to pry off its grip, all the while spinning around in an attempt to dislodge it. He knows how to make gravity work in his favour, so he does, sending his doppelganger careening into... an entirely different mirror, it shattering upon impact.
That's about when Amos hears someone else's footsteps. It couldn't possibly be another doppelganger, right? He whirls in your direction, only for his own to get back up and tackle him from behind, sending the two of them to the ground, his doppelganger pinning one of his arms in the process. Yes, he is going to feel this in the morning; in the meantime, maybe a little help? ]
amos burton | zenith | exalt
[ Loathe as he is to spend any of his sand — to lose any of it — a guy's gotta eat. It's exchanging one weakness for another; lose some of his life source, or lose energy vital to keeping him alive to begin with. It's an ugly tradeoff.
Which might explain why that mason jar is as close to him as it is, one large arm wrapped firmly around it, tucked in the crook of his elbow — if he had to spend his own life source just to eat then he is keeping all of this for himself, fuck you very much. Amos is seated in a corner, walls to his back and side, leaving him less open to ambush; he is also seated as far away as possible from anything that looks even remotely blighted. It isn't even the blight itself, as every now and then he'll look up, staring at that blue glow some of the plants sport like it's going to come to life and attempt to consume him. Call it a prior parallel experience he doesn't want to take any chances with.
He tenses as he hears footsteps, using that arm to pull his jar in closer to his person as he lifts his head, stares in your direction. If he recognizes you — either as Zenith or a close friend — then his body will slacken and he'll loosen his hold on the jar, opting to simply return to eating, no worse for the wear.
But if he doesn't recognize you — or knows you to be Meridian — then he'll bare his teeth at you, hackles up, food firmly within his grasp, and snap, ] What?
[ He's a hungry animal and this is his kill. He'll tear your throat out if he has to; maybe even regain some of the sand he had to spend on it from your own. ]
ii. hall of mirrors
[ At some point, he's going to have to map out this maze — and maybe it's better to do it now, when he's still got some sand to spare, than to wait until it might be too late. Especially with the way that otter is, since he doesn't trust him one bit.
It's easy going, at first. Amos isn't sure what to make of the sturdiness of the ice, so he uses his gravity magic to make himself lighter, just in case. And then he can practically glide through, cover plenty of ground with relative efficiency.
Get so used to his own reflections that he doesn't even notice when one moves independently of him, stepping outside of its mirror to grab him from behind, try to wrestle him into a chokehold.
Amos sputters, grabbing at the arm around his neck with both hands in an attempt to pry off its grip, all the while spinning around in an attempt to dislodge it. He knows how to make gravity work in his favour, so he does, sending his doppelganger careening into... an entirely different mirror, it shattering upon impact.
That's about when Amos hears someone else's footsteps. It couldn't possibly be another doppelganger, right? He whirls in your direction, only for his own to get back up and tackle him from behind, sending the two of them to the ground, his doppelganger pinning one of his arms in the process. Yes, he is going to feel this in the morning; in the meantime, maybe a little help? ]
iii. wildcard
[ or whatever! plotting comment, arii#6412, or