KENOS IC CONTACT

[zauneyete]

SILCO

CONTACT

WRITTEN ◦ ACTION ◦ COMMUNION

© TESSISAMESS

[ Communion with Silco is like being doused in cold, polluted water. It feels like taking a breath is difficult, like there's fingers around your throat, pain all over. The water is too-slick like it's almost more pollutants than water, and the water crashes against you, inescapable, even if you were to somehow find the ability to breathe, there is still no escape from the sickening undertow. Somewhere, perhaps deeper in the water, or something else, is a simmering, vile hatred, resentment, and it feels like it should be hot enough to make the water around you boil, even if it's almost too-placid, and too cold. Like all of this hatred is buried deep. Then again, the fact that it feels so close means it must burn so hot. ]

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[zauneyete]

[ He says he will not let him fuck this world up, and there's a flicker of anger, a roiling rage, something that is so fervent, it hits that wall of static again, a gap in his memory that often comes up when he thinks of a night where he'd — — where the person who would have said something similar was gone fully. Amos continues to hammer it in, how similar he is. And there's almost a moment where he wants to mock him. For his Name, for the Connection, because it is laughable when there is so much hate in his heart, and the expectation of betrayal runs deep.

His Name is Apt, as he will realize later when information is shared with him, but there's a moment where there is an implied stare, both eyes unblinking, mismatched. ]

I have already given up more than you could imagine to be here, do not think that my sacrifices will be in vain.

[ His humanity was gone, his actual life, and his hand, and everything else would be with it, and he knew that. He would cut himself into pieces for this world to be perfect, and it would not be perfect for Amos Burton. He intended to ensure that it would be perfect for one person, and one person only. He didn't even care if he didn't see it. He never had. It was too much to hope for, to be given such a gift. If he even got to hold his daughter once more? That would be enough.

There is a flicker of that conviction, something amorphous but strong, a devotion to something that was not here but it was truly powerful enough that even Silco couldn't hide it. It could almost be seen as — love? Twisted, and careful, and oh-so powerful but as quick as it surfaces, it's gone.

Just a flicker, before he drags it back down into the hidden depths of the dark, cold waters in his communion. He did not dare let too much out, but if Amos doubted him — then perhaps he would be reminded of this. ]

Just remember, Amos, that you are not the only of conviction, and not the only one that deserves this world. I am not building this for me.

[baltimores]

[ Amos stares back, Silco's anger egging his on. There's teeth, the inaudible rumble of a growl. Someone threatens you and you don't talk, you kill.

Silco, of all people, should be able to understand that.

But for that flicker. There and gone, but something strong enough to make an impression, however brief. It stops Amos in his tracks, gaze darting away as if he's looking for its source, rumble stilling. He hardly knows what love is — certainly not enough to put its name to something so brief — but it still felt like something positive. Or if not positive, then at least... something to strive for. Like Silco isn't a total lost cause, as Amos had been on the verge of writing him off as one.

He almost doesn't hear what Silco says next, too busy focusing on that flicker. What it meant.

I am not building this for me, and. ]

Okay. [ Not a surrender, but a concession, instant and without fuss. It isn't all about Silco, and Amos can live with that. That should mean that he isn't in danger of losing his shit, tearing down everything they're working for. So that he isn't working on burning it all to the ground because he's a petty, spiteful man — but he's working for someone else.

Shockingly, that works just fine for an Exalt. ] Okay. Then we'll still build it together. With... with whoever else joins us, when we make it to the end. We'll all work on it together. Build it for everyone else.

[ It's exactly what Yima wants them to do, too. He's sure of it. So... okay. They'll do it. Amos will lower his hackles, and they'll get there. ]

[zauneyete]

[ There's a curious moment, a pause, where Silco's hackles rise, in reaction to the growling, simmering anger he feels from Amos, as if there is an escalation that will happen — because that is what will happen. There is no doubt in Silco's mind about that, even as —

Amos pauses, and Silco can feel it, the way he immediately backs down.

(Perhaps, having emotions is good?

No, it is the Exalts who are wrong.)

Though, as he softens, or perhaps concedes, and understands that Silco is not making this world to be burned down — it was never that, but he intended for it to be a place for those who sought, and hungered, to find places to succeed. To become more powerful. To give and take, but there is a philosophy there that is as much a part of Silco as anything else. ]

We will achieve it. Just as soon as we rip the remaining oracles from Meridian hands — and the rest of them, as well.

[baltimores]

Right. [ No longer seeing a need to assert himself, the agreement comes easily. There's the impression of a nod, crisp and final. ] Good.

[ Whatever Silco's true intentions are... Well, he might have to have words with him then. But in the now there's no need; in the now they've reached an understanding. Something they may need to do time and time again, because it's what Yima will want from them, and—

Well, they got over this particular bump in the road smoothly enough. They can do it again. And again...

It'll be fine. ]

We'll lead the way, then. We'll be the last ones standing.

[ And, because they both know the next one will be coming soon — the next stage of their fight, the beginning of tipping the scales back in their favour, permanently — there's the impression of Amos meeting Silco's gaze once again, unflinching and with something that could almost be considered affection, if it could come naturally to him.

Maybe one day. Under Yima's guidance. ]

See you on the other side, brother.

[zauneyete]

[ Silco doesn't feel the same amount of assurance that Amos does. He acknowledges it as dropped, but... well. The man understood, wholeheartedly, that there would be a point at which Amos would find him too difficult to deal with. Too inconvenient. Just like every other time, it would happen. He was prepared for it, and that would, of course, be the path that led to his downfall time, and time, and time again. He couldn't trust it, even now. Amos would do it for Yima, but he expected that at some point... in some form...

Well. Yima would find a replacement, right? He would shore up his defenses and he would gird himself from the aftermath as best he could.

After all, he knew what ostracization was, and he expected it, given his name. Perhaps, more than most, he'd learned enough to know precisely what was expected of him. Good thing he thought he was on the right path.

He doesn't voice it, and keeps his communion leak tight, to not let anything through. Amos was volatile, and easy to set off, if he did not say the right words, do the right things, speak exactly as he wanted. He had to remember that. His fervency was of a different source, and that meant he would always have to be particularly cautious.

Despite the tone of address, the familiarity. When was the last time he had called someone that?

Ah yes. Sometime before the — static — ]

Yes. We will persevere. See you at the end of our next trial.

[ The word, perhaps, is a touch more loaded for Silco than it is Amos. ]