zauneyete | KENOS IC CONTACT

I didn't expect to see another one of us down here.

[ He said, his tone sharp. His eyes searched again, but he forced himself to focus on Amos this time. Silco was... jumpy. Probably jumpier than need be, but he hadn't expected to have an encounter in the markets like he had either. ]

Let's just say, I'm keen to watch my back.

[ That was all he would say about that, clearly. He fished a cigar out of his jacket, quick as could be, and he lit it with a finger to the tip -- one of those new little tricks he'd picked up, and even with the gloves, the fire burst to life on the tip only. He'd been practicing a great deal since he'd started to manifest his powers. ]

I assume a little... bird gave you some information about...

[ His eyes rolled around, indicating this place. The information had been...welcome, for him. Even while the world itself and everyone in it made him angry. Even with the nervousness, watching his back -- being here... it felt like home like Zaun, the closest thing he'd found in some time, and the fact that his discord was so high rankled, he felt the constant tug to return to Highstorm. He would need to solve that soon. ]

Yeah, the bird gave me a tip. [ It's a fairly neutral statement overall, as though Kathova had given him a recommendation to his favourite restaurant and not... here. ] Nice guy. Kinda stuffy though, huh?

[ Not like he's passing judgment or anything, but formalities have never been Amos' forte, and considering Kathova's overall nature... eh, he'll get along just fine.

He impassively watches as Silco lights up his cigar; as he indicates the general area around them, filled with enough people to keep the street active and bustling, but not so much so that they're in danger of anyone running into them. What is it, their eyes or something? Whatever — unnatural as Amos' now look, he really has nothing more than open honesty for Silco in his gaze. ]

Far as I know, it's just us two. Who else would he even tell? [ Seriously — among their compatriots, he's not sure who else would fit right in here. Or even want to be here. ] Honestly, wasn't even sure if it was you at first. But then I figured... yeah, it probably would be.

[ And lo and behold. He takes a little glance up the street — maybe he can cover the ground level here today — before turning back to Silco. ]

You're smart enough to not make any enemies within a week, ain't ya? [ Statement does not apply to very old enemies, not that he knows anything about those particular specifics. Also, he's blind to any budding relationships Silco may have around Draumahol — he's more just thinking of using it as a reference point before he goes scouting for the shop he actually needs. In the limited time he has. Holy fuck; this is already getting old, but he stuffs that particular irritation right back down. No need for it yet. ] I mean, sure, place like this, 'course you want to watch your back. But you're probably fine.

[ Around his cigar, Silco's lips peeled into a sneer. ]

Yes, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself in a place like this, don't worry about any supposed enemies.

[ That was Silco's job. He could still feel them, phantom fingers -- even though it had been Vander's arm this time -- wrapped around his neck, choking the life out of him. Phantom chill from the water --

He inhaled, sharp, punctuated. One of his black eyes closed, but the other remained staring outward, at Amos. He also felt that instinctual tug back toward the manor, but Silco ignored it for now. There was plenty to do. ]

Now, what brings you down here? [ A wave of his hand, the cigar trailed smoke with it. ] I can't imagine you've come down with no purpose, have you?

[ Silco didn't want to talk about why his eyes continued to trail the faces, why every tall person gets a second appraisal -- just to make sure. The pattern is set, now, he can't do anything more than fight. He won't let this happen to him again -- cannot -- He fixed his eyes on Amos. There was nobody else milling about, and near Draumahol, well... he doubted that the one that he feared would show up would... actually be here. Drugs weren't his style. He forced himself into a semblance of relaxation, or at least a farce of it. ]

[ Amos inclines his chin at Silco's retort, but says nothing otherwise, though that sharp inhale earns a blink. He'd point out that he isn't the one worried about anything, it's Silco who is, but whatever. Silco does have a point there. It's none of his business — and they both know well enough to not get mixed up in whatever business someone else might have in a place like this. Sure, they may be on good enough terms to partner up when necessary, but actually, meaningfully helping the other out with a personal problem? Seems unlikely.

... Although he does have kind of a problem here that, if Silco could help solve, would really save him a lot of time... ]

Looking for a shop. [ Amos' voice is neutral, like he's commenting on the weather. Or the colour of the glowing mushrooms, which is kinda one and the same down here. ] Bird said there was some kind of shop down here where they can acquire more modern weapons. You know, like the kind of shit I'm used to.

[ Under his breath, irritated and only doing a barely passable job of restraining it: ] Could finally get a real fucking gun for once.

[ And, another reminder to himself: not the time or the place to get snippy. Sure as shit not if he finds the place. So he forces himself to perk right back up, back to ignoring the way Silco seems to be cataloguing everyone who passes. Or the way all of his attention suddenly snaps back to him. ]

Don't suppose you've already come across it, have you?

[ Not like he's expecting it, but — please, it would save him so much time. ]

More modern weapons?

[ He asked, his tone was careful, and he didn't let it reflect the slight interest. Not for him, no. But... if there was a place down here like that, perhaps that would be of interest for Jinx, and he wanted her armed as soon as possible -- particularly with something that packed a punch. Call him paranoid, but if she had encountered one of their foes, he didn't want his daughter to end up like him.

So he ran a gloved finger against his lips, considering the proposition. ]

I haven't seen anything of that nature, but there's an area that might hold what you're looking for.

[ He was curious too, and so, with a final peek over his shoulder -- just to be sure -- he said: ]

There's an area... further in. I've seen some more heavily armed individuals head that way. It may be worth a look.

Yeah? Hey, thanks.

[ Before he can do much of anything, Amos gives him a friendly clap on the shoulder, jostling Silco with it a little. His hand is broad, and he's strong, so it might be a bit much, but the thanks is sincere.

At least he has the decency to remove his hand fairly quick. ]

I'll have to check it out. [ Heavily armed individuals... there's a chance he's being set up in some way, though he doubts it. Though that's always going to be the chance down here, but he has enough faith in himself to figure a way out. (And more than enough faith that if something goes wrong, Yima will find some way to help him.) ] Probably gonna end up checking this whole place out eventually, but—

[ He suddenly stops, a surprised and then mildly distressed look crossing his face. He reaches for his throat with one hand, though there's nothing there; he's abruptly stopped breathing, though.

And then it's gone, Amos gasping and then inhaling deeply as he tilts his head back, lowers his hand. He takes a second, eyes fluttering, before looking back at Silco. ]

Sorry. That's been happening lately. [ A cough, and then he's right back to normal. ] Anyway, only makes sense to map the whole place out, right? But yeah, I'd rather find that shop first.

[ It's likely to be the most advantageous thing to him here, after all. ]

[ Silco's shoulders instinctively tensed underneath the press of Amos's hand -- it's friendly, but friendly means nothing to a paranoid Zaunite -- and his lips peeled back unpleasantly, up until the moment he let go. His shoulders relaxed, but Silco didn't look back over his shoulder, the paranoid itch returned.

He'd been about to comment, on the fact that he was going to end up scoping the whole place out -- that was also Silco's plan -- he had plans already, thoughts, ideas. He'd always been great with logistics, ever since --

Amos's catch of breath caught his attention, and his head whipped toward him.

He wasn't breathing -- Silco's gloved fingers rose to his own neck, to feel for phantom cords wrapped around his neck -- he swallowed, and breathed just for good measure. If his fingers trembled, there was no reason for it, right? If his eyes looked from Amos to the rest of the crowd again, his paranoia heightened. His lips peeled back, before he took another breath, just to make sure he still could -- before Amos returned to reality, and breathed again.

His eyes moved, looking for details to the many questions that sprung into his head, when he did it. ]

No big deal, huh? You get choked recently?

[ Hes just like me fr ]

[ Any negative reaction Silco had had to his friendly little shoulder clap had either gone unacknowledged or ignored; he's probably gonna do it again whenever the moment strikes him. Just a fun part of knowing Amos,

But at least he has a real excuse for not catching any of Silco's recreation to his airflow being cut off — too focused on getting it back, Silco out of sight and out of mind until things went back to normal.

Or maybe this was just his new normal now. Either way. Whatever.

Amos meets Silco's eyes, their movements met with something solid and ultimately unaffected. Annoyed, if anything, but he can be cordial enough in answering. ]

Nah. Strangled a guy to death back when that tree was fucking with us though. [ He says it with the same cadence as one looking over a city map, since that's kinda where his mindset is already shifting to. Sometimes a tree tells you to make a sacrifice and you kill someone with your bare hands; these things happen. ] I guess it wasn't happy with that, even though it said we could kill someone. [ And then, petulantly, ] Not like anybody even died for real, anyway.

[ Not like Silco has died for real; not like Amos has, either. They're both still here, right? It's no big thing. He just has to deal with getting choked out every now and then by some kind of tree spirit; doesn't change the fact that he's absolutely ready to murder that dryad. ]

[ Silco had often thought of Amos as a... similar individual to someone from his past. Not quite as large, but... the demeanor, the thirst for violence, it always brought back a tinge of haunted memory to the man. Like there was a ghost of someone else there. Except that ghost was real, and that ghost had just choked him out in the markets. That ghost was present, and real, and that made what Amos said put Silco even more on edge.

Ironic, that the two of them had both so recently strangled someone to death. Silco could still feel it -- imagined it -- and the chill of his shard was enough to give him pause, and make him tremble with the reminder of it. Of the anger and hate that bubbled up, and his hand throbbed in time with the rest of it -- because he would have his revenge, it was certain at this point. As long as he had time.

It does little to soothe the feeling of apprehension he felt, the hatred. It hadn't been him that had been choked by Amos, but it's too close, too soon. ]

Under the tree with the dryad? [ He asked. ]

Hm. It is an...unpleasant way to go, I hear. Whether it isn't real or it is. As I'm sure you can imagine, now.

[ He knows, intimately, what it is like. What it feels like to have ones brain go blank, for the air to leave, to lose all semblance of control, sight, smell, each sense dying off in succession.

He knows, and it is... something he would never wish to have happen to him again. ]

[ ... Something's up with Silco.

What, Amos has no clue; he knew the man had died recently, but didn't know how, or by whose hands. Either way, that's probably why he seems on edge, but the way he seems... more on edge? Just talking to him? It's completely different from the way their conversation in the library had gone, when Amos had been trying to suss Silco out and the man had remained unflappable.

Weird. ]

Yeah, the tree. [ He knows there's a difference between the dryad and the actual tree itself — he's just gonna keep calling it a tree anyway because like. It was in a tree. So,

Amos cocks his head, looking at Silco with an unflinching gaze. These are all things he'd have never expected from the man — it's almost like a sense of empathy, talking about how bad being strangled is. Huh.

And then he breaks the moment, letting out a small sigh as he dips his head, brings a hand up to rub almost sheepishly at the back of his neck. ]

Unpleasant, huh? Shit, and I was trying to make the guy's death painless. [ Welp, might've fucked that one up. Sorry Dextera. ] I mean, I lived in space. Sometimes you lose air. Part that pisses me off here is I can't do anything about it. Airflow runs out, you swap in a new tank. Someone's choking you, you fight them off. Here I got some kind of ghost with tree hands choking me, and I just gotta stand here and take it.

[ He almost scoffs; really, though, he's still more annoyed than anything else. Not stressed out; certainly not now that the moment has passed. He's just... irritated. ]

I'm gonna kill that fucking thing.

[ And that's that, as far as he's concerned. ]

[ Isn't it terrible, when you can't fight them off? Silco appraised Amos for a long moment, wondered if he knew what he was saying? Wondered if he understood what precisely he was getting at? After Vander had choked him out in a way he could not fight off, he knew what it was, to not be able to stop it. No stabbing, no fighting, none of it had worked.

His eyes drifted, away from Amos for a moment.

Similar to when he'd been young, the obsession with it, the disdain from it -- he had felt hated when Vander deigned to strangle him on the street, like he needed to be quashed and removed -- like a dirty little thing that should be tossed away.

He forced himself to focus back on the other man. Forced himself to smile, his fake, placid smile. The one he used for enforcers and the council's investigators. No, Amos was nothing like Vander, he decided. He had thought to be doing a kindness to someone, not... wicking them from the map. ]

I agree. I have found... my own side-effects from our encounter with the dryad.

[ It had, in fact, kept him from being able to deal with Vander in the way he knew how. Used his shimmer to slip his fingers to skin and make a beast to deal with the hound. ]

I do hope we're given the opportunity to Burn that thing to the ground.

[ His tone turned violent. Just as much as Vander had hindered his time here, so had the Dryad. ]

[ Amos remains blissfully clueless as to the intricacies of Silco's past few days. All he can do is speak for himself. If you can't physically fight someone off, it means you're dead. And yet he's made it this far — they both have, despite Silco's five-day interruption — so, yeah, you know. You fight the other guy off.

It does not click in his head that Silco being unable to fight the other guy off would have been responsible for said five-day interruption. He's so far removed from the incident itself, from the concept of death being anything meaningful that he's just patiently humming along, waiting for Silco to come back to him.

And when he does — when he offers that fake smile to him — Amos reciprocates it with an empty one of his own. Something had happened there, something Amos wasn't privy to, but the way Silco has forced his composure back, he can't help but think, I see you.

He's not unflappable, after all. That's good to know, to keep in his back pocket — especially since they're both intent on spending more time in a place like this.

But that's for the future, and this is now. Now, where they have a common enemy again. They can work well together. They'll probably just have to find a new way. ]

Yup. Think we'll get it. [ The opportunity. Amos' voice turns chipper as that violence slides into Silco's; more than anything else, this feels like home. Doesn't matter where they are, but the promise of violence is always where he feels the most comfortable, and they're going there now. ] Yima'll help us, and then we won't have to deal with that shit again.

[ And really, that's good enough for him. You kill something, and it's over with; that's how it works. It's rarely anything more than that. ]

[ Silco's eyes flicked to his face, two black pools that appraised the man curiously. He had, after all, not thought of Yima as someone to be so involved, but here was Amos, devout as ever to whoever was in charge. He shouldn't be surprised, he supposed, that he'd latched onto Yima in a similar way that he had the last leader, but at least this one wouldn't quite squander his loyalty.

Silco's lip curled into a ghost of a smile. ]

Oh yes, but I have a few things up my sleeves to help us, regardless.

[ Jinx had promised a burning woodchipper, and he very much intended for his daughter to get to use it on the dryad. ]

We intend to kill it, and that's all that matters, isn't it? [ He tipped his head, in the direction of the exit. ] You might need to find something that packs a punch, if we intend to deal with it.

[ Oh, but that look, those words have Amos' attention right back, reminding him of the dichotomy between them. Could he kill Silco here and now? Sure, but that wouldn't get him anything — especially when Silco's more of an ideas man than he is.

He cocks his head. ]

You got something in mind? [ Because it sure sounds like he does. ] 'cause I'm kind of in wait and see mode there. Couldn't tear it apart; kinda doubt that a gun would do a whole lot against it, even if I could get a good one in time. I keep going back to some kind of axe, but honestly, not like I've been around trees and wood and whatever a whole lot. Something's gotta be able to cut that fucker down, though.

[ Ah, now this is where Silco had plans, of course. Well, they weren't his plans, actually. They were Jinx's. He had no doubts that they would find a way, because between Silco and his shimmer, Jinx's brains, and Amos's strength?

How could that thing hold up against them? ]

I do. If you think your guns won't do much, I have...alternative plans. [ A beat. ] Maybe a woodchipper.

[ Another pause. ] Maybe it'll light it on fire.

[ Hey, he wasn't the genius inventor, that was his daughter. ]

[ what ]

You've got a woodchipper that also lights things on fire?

[ At first, he's ready to point out that that kind of seems like overkill, but... maybe it isn't, actually? Considering how they really do need to make sure that thing is dead, and that seems. Pretty thorough, actually, so Amos' initial baffled expression turns thoughtful turns into a nod. ]

Probably wanna light it on fire away from the actual tree though, right? Since I'm pretty sure we don't want to burn the whole thing down.

[ It's kinda important; surely Silco knows that better than most.

Though that just brings up a whole other question... ]

That thing sure seemed like it was part of the tree. What's the plan for extracting it and putting it in the woodchipper?

[ He's just going with this now; the woodchipper totally exists and will definitely be available for them. It'd be real weird of Silco to mention it otherwise. ]

[ Look. Jinx had promised a flaming woodchipper. Silco will look real foolish if Jinx doesn't deliver, won't he?

It's probably a testament to how much he trusts his daughter, that he says it like it's fact -- because normally, when she puts her mind to something, she simply does it. ]

It's in progress, but I don't doubt it will be ready, but yes, we'll keep it away from damaging the tree.

[ Did he care about the tree? Only as far as it brought him back to life. Other than that? Not really, but he understood the logic in it. ]

As for how to get it from the tree... [ His face twitched, slightly. That was the question, wasn't it? ] Without further experimentation, we'll all be doing this on the fly -- unless Yima offers us more information.

[ Silco will absolutely look foolish if it turns out there's no flaming woodchipper. Either there is one and Amos carries on like normal, or there isn't one and he's gonna be shooting him a lot of what the fuck looks until he gets an explanation.

Or think Silco's a little insane, and not the fun kind. That might be on the table too. ]

Looking forward to it. [ No point in assuming anything other than it being real at this time!

At the idea of Yima giving them more to work with, though, Amos smiles. It's light but fond. Confident. ]

'course she will. Otherwise what's she getting out of this? If she wanted us to be cannon fodder for a tree we would be already. Doesn't make any sense to leave us twisting in the wind, so she won't.

[ Look, he may be loyal to a fault, but there's a logic he operates by. Yima won't send them in blind because she's a better person than that — but also because it makes no sense to risk your people over something so avoidable. And she cares about her people, so it's fine. It'll all work out like it's supposed to. ]

[ This, at least, Silco can appreciate.

Amos is correct, in his logic, he thinks. Shard bearers are not common here, and the amount of power and ability that they can amass is beyond normal, even for the unusual beings here. It is something to be kept safe, and he remembered the way she had spoken about Silco being dissipated.

She had not been happy -- perhaps even some of that displeasure was with him.

He did not foresee that she would squander them. ]

Correct. There would be no use in that. However, I do hope that the beast isn't... given the opportunity to skitter away.

You know how some of those among us can...struggle. With doing what needs to be done. [ A beat, a moment of weight in his tone. ]

Not like you and I, of course. We have no qualms with such things.

[ Amos hums, lone and toneless, as he takes a second to gaze at their surroundings with blackened eyes. They've only just begun to exist in this space — or at least, he's pretty sure Kowloon is relatively new for Silco too — but there is something to the way the both of them immediately fit in, something to the way that they're both likely to spend a fair bit of time here worming their way into their respective corners, and something to the way that not everybody of their ilk will be able to say the same.

Eyes back on Silco's. ]

Yeah. I wouldn't worry about it though. What're the chances any of them get to it, and someone like us doesn't? That thing isn't getting away; one way or another, it's gonna die.

[ A beat, a tilt of his head. ]

You anticipating trouble?

[ Because if his tone is anything to go by, Amos certainly isn't. ]

Hm.

[ He said, and it's the sort of tone that said 'yes', but that was vague enough that it gave Silco time to think of the right words.

Of course he was expecting trouble, because he had been a man recently murdered on the streets. Of course, just like with the Thing from Horos, he expected no end to the danger here too, but he'd thought himself wiser, more cautious, and more adept at dealing with the odd, supernatural, and overpowered that they had to deal with here.

And all it had taken, of course, was an arm around his neck for long enough, and he'd died in the street, like something disgusting, to be thrown out with the trash. ]

There are plenty about that could get into our way. They may even try to beat us.

I suggest we are cautious, when we go for it. Let's just say I have experience, with some of our newer arrivals, and they may get in the way.

[ Vague enough that it would leave him guessing, perhaps, but Silco certainly had been on edge. ]

[ Amos remains oblivious to Silco's obvious trauma when it comes to being murdered in the middle of the street. He came back to life, didn't he? What's the problem? Just kill the guy who killed you and move on.

... Though come to think of it, Silco personally killing anyone might be a little tough, just because. Look at him. Amos is pretty sure he could literally snap him in half if he wanted to. (And despite them being in a street and Amos being of similar build to a certain someone, he does not want to.)

He quirks an eyebrow, not really sure what the problem is here. ]

Someone gets in our way, then we kill them too. The tree needs to be kept safe; it can't be as long as that thing's running around in it. Someone doesn't understand that, then they can die with the dryad. [ A beat. ] The kind of person who'd want to protect that thing probably has a problem with killing anyway, so shouldn't be too hard to get rid of them while we're at it.

[ C'mon man, this is easy stuff. They've got nothing to worry about. ]

[ Amos. He Did kill him. That's the whole problem here. Revenge works two ways.

Silco looked him up and down, and shook his head, one eye closed for a brief moment -- the other always moving, always watching -- as if Amos's simplistic view of it was the way to go.

Perhaps it was, too.

After all, if anyone else was going to be involved, and they were going to get in their way... well, Silco certainly wasn't going to hesitate. He would slit someone's throat if they tried to hold him back again, and there was a high possibility they would encounter someone who didn't want to deal with the creature.

Amos and he, though, were used to these beasts by now. They needed to be culled. ]

I suppose it can be that simple, can't it? [ His eyes flicked to Amos, now. ] Just keep one eye opened, and make sure you anticipate anyone trying to hold us back, hm? No need to be overconfident.

[ Kill him better next time?? Though if he knew the full story, he'd say maybe everyone should get over it, since clearly they're even now. But Amos isn't close to knowing even the half of it, so,

He inclines his chin at Silco's look, waiting. Wouldn't be surprised if he was missing something here, but murder really is an efficient way at solving a lot of problems. If he's missing something — doesn't matter. He's already got his plan of attack, loosely speaking.

Except Silco's relatively easy agreement throws him, a look of surprise flitting across Amos' face before he lowers his chin, looks back at Silco properly again. They're on even ground. In some ways, they're one and the same.

Well alright then. Amos' smile is easy, empty. ]

Sure thing. Don't need any dead weight dragging us down. I can handle it.

[ It's a balancing act — his faith in Yima, his remembering what the dryad is capable of. They will kill it, and everything'll be fine afterwards, but it's the actual event itself that remains to be seen, and that's the bridge they gotta actually cross still. That, and everything that'll come along with it. ]

Let me know if you got any ideas to deal with things, too. [ Since there are apparently things Silco is anticipating that Amos isn't. ] You know, beyond the flaming woodchipper.

Oh, I'm sure I'll have a few, once we have a timetable. I've been doing some reading, taking some notes...

[ These days it's impossible to stay too far from Highstorm for long. There is a point at which it aches, and he can do nothing but scamper back toward the city, tail between his legs, the draw in his shard, and the ever-increasing cold irritating to the point that he must return.

He wants to stay down here, in this city, where the streets are packed, and there's a thrumming energy that Silco can't help but want to lay his fingers on the pulse of. It's so similar to the undercity that he can feel it, the draw, but the pathways here take too long, and the discord continues to hold him back. He will have to achieve a solution, although Yima had done him the favor of staving off the worst of it. That only does so much, when he wants to stay here, in this thriving undercity, filled with every debauchery known to man. ]

Don't worry, it won't just be the woodchipper. That's not my invention, but I have every faith in the builder.

[ It will not be there. It's too big to teleport with them, apparently. ]

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