ota;

[baltimores]

[ This isn't exactly something he does. Not on this scale, at least.

This communion's presence is akin to stepping off into the vacuum of space, cold and dark and empty. A void without feeling, submersed into nothingness — but deep enough there's also the faint pulse of a drowned, hurting heart. And even though it's coming from Amos, there's the sense of him curiously poking at it like an open wound.

It has been a couple of weeks since he killed Cyrus, a fact he has not bothered to hide. A couple of weeks since he has been forced to contend with the responsibility he bears for the deaths of innocents in Springstar, and so — ]

Hey.

[ When he speaks his voice is soft, and gentle, and something that could maybe even be called repentant. Or at least trying to be, the concept being a very, very, very new one for him. ]

So, I've been doing some thinking. There was this time I got caught up in a mass casualty event. Lady I knew then was a nurse, so she was doing what she could, because it had to be done. She also took the time to spend time with the dead. All of them, I think. I didn't really get it then, but I think maybe now...

[ He trails off, fumbling with his words. That pulse maybe grows a little stronger, and then he's back. ]

I dunno how feasible it is, but we should be collecting the names of everyone who died during all of this. When we make the new world — [ because there is no doubt in his mind that Zenith is going to succeed, and their new world will be made — ] we can build some kind of monument. Put everyone's names on it. Give people a space to take their moments with them, even if they ain't here anymore.

I know this don't exactly fix anything, but it's a start. I can keep track of the names. [ There's another pause, and when Amos speaks again, he's much more sure of himself. ] I won't forget them.

Comments

[escardos]

[ for once, when the communion comes through, flat doesn't feel like it's a nuisance he has to turn the volume down on. for once, he feels somehow at home, despite how lonely of a home it might be.

in the void of space, flat might as well be looking at amos poking at his wound with an all too curious expression of his own. it's innocent. it's hollow. ]

Do you feel bad about this?

[baltimores]

No.

[ At least, he doesn't think he does. Flat slips in so seamlessly that Amos barely registers his presence, his awareness only lifting at the words. The hollow curiosity is reciprocated, there's just that little something underneath still. ]

It had to be done. Doesn't mean we shouldn't do this after, though.

[escardos]

That's great! I was worried for a sec there.

[ worried about amos? or worried about something else entirely. ]

If it had to be done, then it had to be done. I don't agree with the methods, but as long as you're sure that you don't feel guilty about it, then that's that.

[ war is...stupidly complex, he realizes. unnecessarily so. ]

But then why are you suggesting this? Isn't remembering everyone a lot of unnecessary weight on your shoulders?

[a_noble_flame]

[In most things Alice wishes to be neutral. From Emperor to civilian all are equal in the eyes of her justice. Typically. Usually. Life has been pressing at her though and chipping away at the rock she's placed firmly over her feelings

The warmth of her communion is near snuffed out by this cold. Flames forever follow at her heels though and in the end they burn a little hotter in the moment. Anger and sadness all too often are mixed together for her and though she is so new here, unharmonized when Cyrus died and never knowing the man beyond that last sad speech ...

Her shoulders sag some. It's just ... such a waste in the end, for everyone. A cold space with a wounded heart and so many more wounded hearts beyond.]

This is your justice for them then?

[baltimores]

[ Her feelings are baffling to him — not unpleasant, just thoroughly foreign from the way he knows the world to work. The flames of passion and caring not something he can ever recall experiencing for himself (certainly not the way Alice feels it); the sense of waste met with acceptance, like, yeah. That's life.

He is maybe trying to make it not life anymore? He isn't sure. ]

I... don't know. Maybe? [ Amos' uncertainty is genuine, at least. ] Gotta be honest, I'm not exactly from somewhere where justice applies. I was more thinking that... that this was the right thing to do.

[ Is that what justice is?? He has no idea. ]

[a_noble_flame]

Yes, I would call that your justice then.

[The fact that he was in large part the one to cause the need for such a monument isn't brought up. Instead Alice thinks a moment.]

I'm very new and unfamiliar with Springstar as a whole. I will assist where I can in gathering names however.

[And she will likely remember them alongside of him. Another apology for arriving much too late to be of true help.]

[faceripper]

Then let's start with Cyrus at the top, you absolute twit. Is this a joke?

[ Amos may be being earnest here, but it's not how Fane hears it. He's just as deeply suspicious of Amos's intentions as he was when he'd offered to ask Yima for his daughter. This may not sound like mockery, not really, but Fane can't hear it as genuine either. ]

With the rate you lot are going, you'd best have proficient engineers. I fear to see just how large of a monument to those you murder you'll have to create.

[epiprocta]

[ He probably shouldn't be butting into anyone's conversations lightly, given current tensions. But also, he is tired beyond caring, so. Flatly: ]

How 'bout you go fuck yourself instead of wastin' his time with your bullshit.

[faceripper]

No, you go fuck yourself, you toe-stealing twat.

[ Fane practically hisses right back at Gen, and his voice is full of much more venom than his initial response. Unfortunately, he is easy to wind up... Also Gen stole his toe. Never forgive, never forget. ]

He's the one that made this ridiculous notion, and Communion forces us all to hear it. Do you truly feel the need to defend his honor on it?

[baltimores]

Go fuck yourself. Do I sound like I'm joking?

[ If Fane is going to come in hot, then Amos is going to try to knock his head off. Metaphorically. (Maybe literally, should he see him in person again.) ]

His name is at the top. He was a good guy. [ And Amos wouldn't have been able to fully ascend without his death. It swirls in him, a sense of mourning, something grateful accompanying it. It's a weird feeling, but at the same time it makes sense to him, so... he's fine to accept it. Have his peace with it. ] And it'll... it'll be good for everyone. It will.

[ also he's technically engineer-adjacent already so like,

yeah, he can build something worthy of the lives lost

dick ]

[warmare]

[Haters support haters.

Hayame may not bother with this disgusting display, having already castigated Amos in her own, but. There is a noticeable sense of her agreement here.

FANE IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT.]

[bakedapple]

[ As Amos' thoughts reach Link, they collide and mix with a similarly cold mind. But instead of it being evocative of the lifeless void of space, this is more akin to the top of a towering mountain — if you admire the beautiful view for too long, the thin, icy air will eventually choke you.

This is a marked difference from the last time Link and Amos spoke. Link is not well. ]

We're supposed to be leaving everything behind when we go to the new world.

[ It's not that Link doesn't understand the sentiment, but... it seems a bit at odds, doesn't it. ]

[baltimores]

[ He kind of wants to reach out to Link, take him under his wing. Put an arm around his shoulders and pull him in. Like, yeah, Amos is cold too, but his feels a lot more peaceful. Comfortable.

Well, the sentiment is there, if not the sensation. If he can, Amos will warm him up — it's good that he's back, after all, a hint of happiness on feeling his presence. ]

We will. It's just... one little corner. These're people who are dying so we can have the new world. They're a part of it, too — so they can have their place in it.

[ It feels right? Yeah, it feels right. ]

OTA

[redsoil]

Why are you asking people to wait to grieve?

[ Set, mentally pointing out the Mnemosyno Gathering held in Springstar to everyone. The one, you know, HE HEADED LAST YEAR? ]

We can do it now. Zenith will never have the opportunity to make a monument, but if you really wish to do something for people — you can pair the intent to our Gathering. The Church of Helios holds one annually, and has for years. We invited Highstorm last year to remember the victims of the Blight and everything.

[baltimores]

[ Amos didn't know about the Mnemosyno Gathering? Why would he? He doesn't even know what a Mnemosyno is??

There is the sense of an eye roll from him — the fuck is this pedantry — but it's a lot more subdued from what it could be. Probably would have been, if it had been before he'd dissipated Set. ]

I'm not saying anybody's got to wait. This is just for after. [ When Zenith wins. ] More people are going to die; it's better if we start collecting names now, so we don't forget anybody.

[ Long pause. The distinct sense of Amos thinking, unsure if he should really indulge this, but he's feeling a lot less murder on sight about Set lately, since he did already murder him. It just didn't stick. ]

Should we do something joint? I mean, in our own cities, but... paired. Like you said.

[ Against all odds, it's a real question. Amos' interest is certainly piqued, he just doesn't know how to proceed — but it kinda sounds like Set might?? ]

private to amos;

[epiprocta]

[ He has no idea what time it is. What day it is. Gen's mostly just been sleeping away the days and hours since Cyrus' death and the destruction of Yima's manor, wandering listlessly between resting places and sleeping until his head hurts, then sleeping some more. Amos's message rouses him from his nightmares just enough that he's conscious, and he regards the Communion in sleepy silence for a moment, cocooned in a layer of blankets somewhere.

He still sounds half-asleep and exhausted when he responses, just lucid enough to know that he doesn't want anyone else to hear what he's about to ask: ]

What's the names so far.

[baltimores]

[ He's been worried. Trying to keep a lid on it so that his emotions don't disrupt Gen, but worried. He might have been able to handle Cyrus fine by himself, but it was smarter to not leave things to chance — he just wishes that it could have been done cleaner. That Gen wouldn't have had to step up, and could have quietly left when it was done.

Instead, it's this. And when they're in direct communication like this he can't suppress that worry, the sense of I'm sorry all that well. That he wants to make this better for Gen over anybody else, and knows he can't.

Softly: ] Well. Cyrus.

[ He's sorry. To Gen and to Cyrus both, maybe.

And what follows is a list of names from Yima's manor, attendants and residents and workers and anyone who just so happened to be unlucky enough to get caught up in it. He's pretty sure he's got them all, but he'll double check. That's part of what this is for, actually, so maybe it's that he'll triple check later.

The silence that follows is almost solemn. Trepid. ]

I don't know any of the other Springstar ones.

[ But at least Gen didn't have anything to do with those, as far as he knows. So it's better, maybe. That's just for him to collect... it'll be okay. ]

[eightfoldfiend]

Tch...

Do you intend to collect the names of everyone who dies in this war?

[Yuber's heavy presence bubbles up over the Communion but instead of the usual sense of oppressive power behind it, there is a sense of polite curiosity.

Humans have such strange customs.]

Or was there something about this last battle that was different?

[baltimores]

[ And he regards that polite curiosity respectfully, mulling over how to answer Yuber's question. ]

Starting from now, yeah. Everyone's names. We haven't really had battles like this before — more like skirmishes, or fighting during an Oracle, but this was different. Like everyone knows it's a war now.

[ A beat, because he really isn't sure how to word this next part, before deciding to push ahead anyway. ]

I think it's something I'm supposed to do now, anyway. Now that I'm fully harmonized with Zenith. Didn't really feel that way before — so I guess that's what's different, too.

[furibund]

[ For what it's worth, Nebula listens, she listens long and hard and thinks - the presence of her in the communion unmistakable as they're both Exalts. The vacuum of space is a familiar one, long lived in herself, and not uncomfortable - but when she speaks, it's with hard purpose and that snow that welcomes, that comforts. ]

You already forgot them. You forgot them the moment your side decided their lives didn't matter in your damned new world.

[ Because if all worlds are list then this is their so called "new world" and all the people in it. It didn't matter who it was, the attacks on the civilians were clearly orchestrated by someone on Zenith.]

I have their names. The names of the confirmed; The names of those lost, but not confirmed.

I've been in the streets for days. [ Pointed, executed. They're only just getting to a place where they can truly confirm people won't be coming back (if they haven't slipped away). ]

Your monument will not bring them back.

[baltimores]

[ And in turn he listens, too. Calm, impassive, and attentive, Amos listens as Nebula speaks her piece, absorbing every word.

And when she finishes his voice is soft and gentle — not in contrast to her purpose, but because he feels it's what the subject matter deserves. If he had any anger, he's long moved past it, on to... this. ]

I know there's no bringing them back. It's okay.

[ Ever the Zenite, ever accepting of death. It's like Flat said: that's that. All there is left to do is look ahead, which is what he's trying to do now. ]

Can I get their names? Of the confirmed... of the lost, when you're pretty sure they'll be confirmed. So they aren't forgotten in death.

[umurice]

[Uncertain, hesitant, Hiiro isn't sure what to make of that. Like a cautious fox slowly approaching food that has been laid out, wondering if it's a trap but too curious to let it be.]

Is honoring the dead for their sake, or for yours? Do not mock them after trampling on their lives.

[baltimores]

[ Oh... he seems young.

Instantly it's as though Amos is crouching down, trying to make himself as nonthreatening as possible. Signal to Hiiro that he doesn't have to be afraid of him; he would do everything he could to never hurt him. ]

It's for them. I don't need it. They do.

[ A pause, as his own uncertainty starts to creep in, a genuine worry bubbling up along with it. The need for advice, and since Hiiro is here... ]

Is it mocking? I don't want that.

[clockpunk]

[ with chrono's response comes the distant echo of a clock ticking. heavy, like the timepiece had been removed from some great tower, the grind of cogs turning over preceding each echoing thunk.

he's there, too, walking on a surface of nothing and looking out into nowhere, a shock of colour that seems to bleed into darkness like paint on water. he doesn't know amos, but somehow this all feels disturbingly familiar. ]

How much is it goin' to cost? [ it's a sincere question, with only a hint of something accusatory to it. mostly, it just sounds... resigned. ] This new world, that so many people don't want.

[baltimores]

[ He tilts his head at the sound of the ticking, trying to get an ear for it. Not bothered by it, just curious. The rhythmic nature isn't so bad.

And then his gaze is drawn into the colour, so stark here, and he meets Chrono head on. He's young, and the resignation in his voice hits him all the harder for it. ]

I don't know. [ An honest, if helpless answer. ] I don't want it to cost any more. Just...

[ The vague waving of a hand. He doesn't know. ]

It's going to happen, you know? [ How could anyone not want the new world... but even if he doesn't comprehend that, he's still kind of apologetic about it. ] I just hope we can get there soon. The sooner, the better.