last man standing. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baltimores) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kenoscomm2024-02-24 01:07 pm
baltimores) wrote in kenoscomm2024-02-24 01:07 pm
ota;
[ 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.
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.
no subject
[ It doesn't change the point that Fane really means, but he's not sure what else to hear this as. It might not be regret for the action, but why else make such a monument? It doesn't strike him as a clumsy diplomatic gesture either. There's sentiment. ]
If you don't care about this monument, then you'd be better using your breath to convince him it's wasted. It's an insult when it comes from bloody hands.
no subject
[ The retort's snapped back quick enough, but there's a note of something weary and forced about it. Because while he doesn't think he's lying, he also has no comeback for the other part -- that it's an insult when it comes from the perpetrator. Because maybe it's not wrong. ]
And the hell's wrong with you, who crowed about anything? You really got nothing going on inside that empty skull of yours? You've got nothing useful to offer yourself, so all you can do is start squawking at people accusin' them of nonsense?
no subject
[ His voice is still dripping with that absolutely venomous sarcasm, of course. ]
I will not make nice with the man that killed the Tribune. You call it squawking if you wish, whelp. I need not make an accusation for that much, and it is what is far worse.