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
[Yuber admits.]
Goodness doesn't seem to serve any practical function. All it does is make humans feel guilty when they fail to live up to their own ideals.
...Maybe humans enjoy feeling guilty? I wouldn't know.
[There is a ripple in the darkness, similar to a pond being teased by a light breeze. Yuber is simply making an observation, like a bird watcher commenting on nesting behavior. In his mind this is a casual conversation.]
no subject
[ Because Amos does not think he feels guilt. (He does — it's just so buried he might as well not feel it at all, thoroughly shut out from his own consciousness. Still there, though.) He's a human, but looking in from the outside; a step halfway removed from humanity, halfway removed from Yuber. Caught awkwardly in a frosted window pane, able to see fuzzy shapes inside, but not a whole lot more. ]
It's stupid. I get it. [ Feeling guilt. ] There is practicality in being good, though. It means you've got people with you. You get enough people, you can band together, make something good. Something safe, for the people who aren't like you and me. [ Because despite Yuber's everything, he sees enough of himself in him to make the comparison between the two of them. ] We need that. So there's a purpose to it.
Just want to be on the side of it, is all.
[ Because as much as Amos doesn't think it of himself, he is still human, and there remains that yearning for him. ]