abraxaslogs | All that Remains

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All that Remains

WHO: Nero and Amos, Nero and Anyone.
WHAT: Amnesiac elf in the Horizon.
WHERE: Amos accidentally takes Nero to the Horizon and then Nero makes his own domain.
WARNINGS: Opt-Out post, and gives general warnings of what may come up in threads. If it gets incredibly edgy, I will lock the log.

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Knock, knock.

[ Nero says as he enters the residence of Amos without knocking. He pauses as he sees the man seemingly out of it. Oh shit. Did he find some goodies here?! Honestly, this peaceful living has been eating on him so he is more than happy to try something else. However, he is unable to find anything that could be said "goodie" around where Amos is. ]

The shit?

[ He reaches out to shake the man's shoulder and convince him to tell the elf where his stash is.

.
.
.
.
.

Darkness.

He blinks, adjusts the focus of his eyes.

He is staring at a man that he doesn't recognize. His mouth slides open in mild confusion.

Who is this?

Wait. Who am I? These questions aren't asked with any urgency or panic. It is the same amount of concern as wondering if he should bring a coat outside because it is cold.

Huh. Should I kill this person? The question is equally calm. His head tilts at the question, however. Why is that the first thing he thinks? Is he being threatened? Is he in danger?

Because it would be fun.

Oh.

He is that kind of person.

Okay.

I don't want to, though. His mind seems confused with the rational decision. I dunno how I got here and it seems like a real fucking pain to get back alone.

Ah.

That is the only reason.

The fact the man is alive means it might lessen an inconvenience to him.

Okay.

So, he is a real shitty person. Good to know.

He finally says something. His inner conversation over; lasting all but a few seconds. ]

Hey, man. What's up?

[ After some explanation of the Horizon, Nero walks off to form his own domain. The parting from Amos was anticlimactic at best; he pointed over his shoulder and said he was gonna go play in his own sandcastle with a promise not to kill anyone so Amos will still show him the way back, before going off to do just that.

What would he make? What would his amnesiac mind create?

Buildings rise around him. The sky turns a dark red hue. It paints everything in crimson, making it look like everything is bathed in blood, but it is just the "light."

He walks down the stone streets; his steps echoing in the empty city. Yet he doesn't feel lonely; he doesn't feel oppressed by the silence; like nothing is right.

He stops at the city square. A statue is in the middle, in the heart of this empty, immortal city. The statue itself is falling to pieces, but obviously had been someone cherished.

Nero can tell because of how much detail he can see in the stone; everything looks crafted with a steady hand to properly depict the person.

But he doesn't know who it is.

He stares at the face carefully before he starts to laugh. Loud, hyena cackling fills the silence of the empty city. Nero isn't quite sure why he is laughing.

He thinks it is because he found something he cares about and doesn't recognize what it might be. And that is funny. It is incredibly funny to care something so much but not know it when it is in front of you.

Why? Because it is so pathetic and sad; yet this feels like how things should be.

He laughs harder. ]

[Eponine is so upset by everything that's happened to her that she can't even begin to start conjuring up her fantasy of clean hair, healthy teeth and pretty clothes. Instead, she's dressed in what she wore in Paris - rags - still emitting that distinct odour of unclean, unwashed material.

Her house is a wreck: she'd smashed her dolls last time she came, and she doesn't have the energy to fix it. So she runs. She runs and she runs until her chest is tight and every breath is forced, painful and burning from her lungs. She runs until she notices the new place.

It's awful, but she's awful, so it's right. Right?
She wanders, unabashed, through the eerily quiet streets, her bare feet silent on the stone.

Eventually, she finds a shadowed doorway, and curls up in it, peering out now and again to see if she can see the owner of this horrifically unsettling area.

It's his laugh that catches her attention and Eponine slinks through the alleyways to Nero, like a moth to a flame. He is horrid and mad, but then, so is she, and like calls to like.

So she steps out of the shadows.]

Why do you laugh, M'sieur?

[ His laughter stops; it is not an abrupt silence but slowly easing to a quiet chuckle. He feels like his throat hurts, but he shifts his position to look at who is speaking to him.

A little wrench. The first thought says. A pretty girl. Says the second thought. Is she pretty? The third chimes, acknowledging her dirty state and body. Oh, yes, she's pretty. His thoughts finish.

Nero accepts this is how his thoughts are going to go; it seems like he is a person that generally goes with the flow of things. However, without knowing anything, he does little checks with himself. ]

I made this. [ The elf explains, gesturing to the city and statue. ] My soul created this, but it doesn't mean anything to me. I'm under the impression this is something that just happens when we come to the Horizon.

The things that mean something to us, the things that shape our souls and life, we now look upon and it means nothing. [ He rests his hand on the broken statue. ] It holds no importance because we don't recognize it... yet tugs at our heart all the same.

Isn't that hilarious?

No, Sir. No, it’s not hilarious.

[She shivers. Is it fear? Of the place? Of Nero? Or relief, that he doesn’t remember either her or her promises.]

When you come back, you’ll remember. And what you once liked, Sir, is horrible or a tease for your soul. Me, I were having happy tea parties with pretty dolls. Cosette, Ursula… whilst ‘Ponine doll were left on the shelf. I always wanted a doll, me, but no. Not for me. Not for women like me. So I have broken them all. Except ‘Ponine. She sits as a queen now when they are all broken. But it’s stupid really. I am the worst of the lot.

[ The Horizon is tough for Amos. He'd first found his way back in by accident; a moment when simply existing had faded away to, well, this. And it seems unproductive — there's shit he's gotta do out in the real world — but this is somewhere private. A place he can meet up with people again, no matter how separated they are, apparently.

His only chance of going back home. Now that his memories are back, he's been able to restore the Roci, to an extent. Have her be big enough to live in. Outside is still the endless black of space, should he want to get lost in it; easy enough to just open up a hatch and slip out without having to worry about losing air or anything. But also, much easier to hang out on the Roci's command deck, where her crew would be. If they were here at all.

... Plus it's probably a good idea to practise coming back here. Too bad he didn't account for this guy.

Amos stares at Nero, watching him get his bearings, waiting for him to do something, answer whatever questions he has playing through his mind, and— Oh.

So everyone loses their memories coming in, apparently.

Fuck. What's he supposed to do with this? ]

Well, you're here now. [ Eloquent. Super helpful. ] Guess that's what's up.

[ Welcome, except maybe... nah. Doesn't seem like a positive development. ]

Guess you have to be here to get it.

[ He lightly taps the side of his head. ]

From what I am understanding of myself, it seems like it is fine if my soul is being horrible to me right now.

[ The elf says this calmly, denying any chance to be given sympathy or absolution. Though, the pretty one doesn't seem like she would want to give him that, anyway. ]

Let me see if I am following you, pretty. When you first got here, you had yourself a little tea party with pretty little dollies save for one. Then, you came back here with knowing who you are and smashed all of them save the one you left out, eh?

[ His head tilts, taking in the story. ]

Do you feel better about it? Smashing them? Breaking them? Letting the one left out stand above 'em as the others lay broken unable to rise again?

You're right, chief; you're right.

[ That does seem to be what's up.

The man also doesn't seem to know what to do with him. However, he notes there is a familiar way that he looks at him, like he knows him.

Are we friends? His mind asks. Nah, that don't sound right. It isn't that he's distrusting of the person, but he has come to understand he is a very shitty person. He isn't the kind of person that'd have friends.

But he doesn't seem hostile. His eyebrows furrow as he looks at him, bemused. Oh, he just might be nicer than me. Sucks to be him, I guess. ]

None of this looks right. [ He gestures towards where they are. While he may not have memories of who he is, he does have a general idea of what things should look like. ] It's all metal and shit. What the fuck?

That's weird. [ He gives him an easy smile. His statement of how 'weird' with the same amount of anxiety as how he's taking his amnesia, which is to say not much at all. Oh, hey. I seem to be an easy-going person. Shitty but easy-going. That's good for me. ]

You live like this?

You sound mad, you know?
[But then, she's mad too. Like calls to like and all that. Who is she to call him out on it?]

But you don't care if your soul is playing tricks? You will when you remember, I'll warrant. It is not so nice. Me, it made me tear and jump and scream and smash. Now only tatty old 'Ponine doll is still whole. I wish I could do that for real - just tear everyone up and start again.

[She chuckles] It were stupid, you know, but you know what was so nice? One doll, she had such pretty hair, all blonde curls. It were so funny to chop and pull and pluck until she were quite bald. Me, I'd do that to Miss Julie, if I could. Clip her hair and make her bald. That'd serve her right.

Be crazy not to know how I sound.

[ His shoulders give a small shrug at her question. He lightly drums his fingers on the broken statue's face. ] So, my memories will come back, eh?

[ Nero remains oddly unconcerned with this news. It isn't really bravado or a belief that things will be okay; if he had to name the reason for his nonchalant mood, it's apathy. Like he doesn't care, but he doesn't analyze the feeling any further, and instead listens to what the pretty girl is saying. ]

I get a feeling it'd be hard to do that, 'specially for you. [ He looks her over, and shakes her head. She has a lot of fight in her; it's a lot of feral and real anger, but that isn't enough to tear everyone up and start again.

Even his amnesiac ass knows that much.

Should I be bothered I'm hearing all this? His first thought chimes in. Nah. The second thought answers. He frowns thoughtfully before nodding. Right, I do seem like an asshole.

A quieter, vicious thought adds, Oh, I seem much worse than that. ]

It's stupid but it made you feel better. Whatever, right? No reason to dwell on it just because it was a stupid thing to do. [ He tilts his head. The name "Miss Julie" also doesn't ring a bell. ]

I feel it'd be hard to do that to a living person. 'Specially for you. [ Nero uses that phrase again as he looks her over. ] But if you catch her right, you could maybe bash her in the back of the head with a rock. Clip and tear her hair out then. I doubt an unconscious person mind much. [ He pauses to look at the statue that he's leaning on. The elf leans down to pick up one of the bigger broken pieces to hold it out to the young girl. ]

Here, sweetie.

Edited 2021-09-15 02:32 (UTC)

Bash her skull in? No…

[She looks uncertainly from the rock to Nero and back.]

She laughed when I said I had a knife, you know. But there is nothing to give me a rock. We can’t bring it back when we leave. If she is to die, I want her to die in the real world, not here

Hit her in the head, then. [ With the rock in his hand, he makes small movements with his wrist. ] You know, knock her unconscious.

[ Give her some lasting brain damage, it'll be fun. ]

I would have laughed, too, sweetie. Have you looked at yourself? [ It seems like she's not going to take him up on the rock. Nero tosses it over his shoulder; the broken piece of the statue strikes the ground hard behind him. ]

We can't die here?

No... I don't think so.

[She looks down at her body, her rags, and wraps her arms defensively round her middle.] I know I'm skinny and that... but I know lots, me. I have watched murders. I know how to play with a knife.

That bastard.

[ He cranes his neck to look over his shoulder; his gaze is in the general direction of where Amos may be. But he made his promise that he wouldn't kill anyone so -- that's that.

Oh? I'm a man of my word?

Guess so.

That's a fucking surprise.

We're all a little surprised here, chief. ]

Hm. I think it's more than playing with a knife, pretty. [ He reaches out to take her hands in his own. ] You just watched it. You haven't killed anyone yet, have you, sweetheart?

[ This is such an incredibly funny conversation for him. He has no memories about who the fuck he is, and some dirty-faced girl is lamenting about who the fuck knows to him. Nero isn't the self-pitying type, it seems, and he also isn't the type to care about what's happening beyond acknowledging the hilarity of it.

What am I hoping to gain from this? He wonders. The answer comes back to him, Nothing. I don't want anything. I just like hearing her destroy herself over petty, cruel people. ]

[ Amos wonders if he had been like this when he'd first come here, no memories to tell him who he was, leaving him to operate solely by instinct. He's pretty sure he wasn't, but then again, he hadn't really been confronted by anyone head on until he'd had time to put his space together. Nobody to ask any questions. Not that he'd have had any, probably.

There's a power imbalance that there hadn't been when they'd all gone in the first time. Amos knows who he is, and it's very apparent Nero doesn't. And he... doesn't know what to do with that. He can't help the guy, and that's the only thing it seems like he should be doing, dangerous as he knows he is, but...

Nero earns himself a flat stare with his remarks, his question. ]

Yeah. [ Voice is flat, too; not so much out of annoyance as it should be obvious. ] Try to, anyway. You get to make whatever you want here. So I made what I like.

[ It's not like there's anything Nero could actually do with the information, but he's not about to spell it out for him that this is what his home looks like. Cold metal and nothing but, a container to keep them housed from the vacuum of space. It's not weird; a fuckton of people live like this back where Amos is from. And it's the only environment in which he's ever known anything that could so much as resemble happiness.

He folds his arms over his chest. Cocks his head. ] What do you like?

[ Best case, he gets to learn something about the guy. Worst case... is there even a worst case? Kinda feels like either they stay stagnant or go up from here. Either one's fine. ]

And you made this.

[ He starts out saying as he knocks his knuckles against one of the metal plating that is all around. To him, it isn't cozy at all, but he doesn't have memories to pull from to give much more of an analysis beyond that, sadly. It seems like he has a general understanding of shit, but any real specifics are lost. ]

I can make what I like, huh? [ Parroting the response back, he muses over the question about what it is that he likes.

Murder? He certainly was quick to think about it. His head tilts; he wonders if he should share his thoughts. Who the fuck cares? This person knows who I am, anyway. Anything I share now is either shit he already knows, or something to affirm what he knows.

In short, it isn't anything that can hurt him at this point. And he also gets the distinct feeling that he would be annoyed if he was trying to keep himself from being hurt. Glutton for pain? No. Just don't like the manipulative shit. There are plenty of ways to manipulate a person, but lying who you are? That's cowardly and bullshit.

So, he's honest for the most part.

Neat. ]

I thought it'd be murder. [ He finally answers, running his hands along the chrome around them, walking the perimeter. Not to intimidate, not predating, they're having a conversation and he doesn't like the idea of just standing around as he does it.

What's that say about me?

Unclear. ]

I like the idea of it. Bloodshed and screams. The sound of it gurgling out of the mouth. [ He mimes with his free hand blood pouring out. ] Yeah, that shit seems to really get me going. [ A beat. ] But I don't want to kill aimlessly, frivolously, meaninglessly.

Even though I think I'd find killing for those reasons is funny. [ He stops walking. ] No. I don't think it's funny. I find that irritating. I find that incredibly fucking irritating.

[ But why? The reason -- the why -- is lost to him. That is part of who he really is; so he can only get a vague sense of displeasure if it is done just to watch everything burn. ]

So, I guess I don't wanna just make some folks to tear apart for my amusement. [ Hm, then, what does he like? ]

Let's start spitballing since the obvious choice is out, okay, pal?

Edited 2021-09-15 17:07 (UTC)

What bastard?

[She looks over her shoulder, half expecting a man to appear behind her. But then, he's mad, this Nero. Perhaps he sees men in his mind to curse at?

It's oddly comforting to Eponine. The conversation he has in his head probably wouldn't be as much.

She lets him take her hands, shaking her head as she does so. After Julie, after Nott, she needs to hear that she's pretty. She needs to feel wanted. Even if it comes from a madman, she needs it. She almost smiles hopeful that he's not kidding.]

I ain't killed no one. God, I am all else that is bad in this world, but I ain't a killer. But do you have it - I mean, I know you won't have it -
But do you ever have that you just wish you could make them shut up? Just stop them calling you stupid and dumb and ugly and whore and the rest? Me, as far as I remember, I am called these things. And perhaps it's true, and I laugh it off when my Pa's friends shout them. But another woman? They truly mean it. It makes you feel -

[She shakes her head] Sorry

The one that is gonna show me how to leave here.

[ He tilts his head abruptly to the side; like he is gesturing to someone who is right next to them. But sadly -- thankfully -- Amos is nowhere near them.

Nero doesn't look disappointed when she says she hasn't killed anyone. If anything, it's more like a warm feeling of being right that hits him. Well, it isn't like it was hard to figure out, but it is nice to know my instincts were correct. ]

Aw, sweetie. [ Nero finally reaches out to touch her face. ] I don't think I would care if someone insulted me. [ His eyebrows furrow; he imagines someone insulting him and can't find fault in it. But there is something there that he wouldn't allow. However, that's connected to who he really is so he doesn't know what that something might be. ]

Anyway, no need to be sorry. [ A beat. ] It's nice to hear you talk about these things. [ He gives her a nasty smile. ] It seems like you have no one else who will listen to you. Is that how is it is, honey?

[ For his part, Amos is perfectly comfortable staying still, watching Nero walk about the Roci's operations deck. It's not like there's anything he can do here that would ruin things; if there somehow was, Amos could fix it within a second. Guy feels the need to move, he can move.

He already knew Nero was a killer, but the way he describes people dying... Yeah, Amos isn't a fan of that. He's familiar with everything he's saying, it's just not something he's relished. You kill someone and you're done with it. That's it. Anything more is perverse. ... So of course that'd be the case with Nero. It's almost a surprise to hear that he doesn't want to just slaughter people for kicks.

Guy is just full of those, huh. His face stays impassive. He doesn't like any of what he's hearing, but he isn't exactly affected by it, either. ]

Guess just an ocean of blood is out for you, huh. Since it wouldn't mean anything. [ His voice is flat. A little sarcastic. ] Surely there's more to you than just murder.

Do you want to leave? Is it so bad here?

[She shrugs, glancing quickly at Nero's face before looking away over his shoulder. It's clear she's uncomfortable. She has nowhere to go outside of here. Nowhere to go in the Horizon. Nobody wants her...
But he does. Nero. He did. And as terrible and as awful and as terrifying as he is, he tolerates her. He wants her for her, not as a pawn to kill or a thief to steal. He thinks she's pretty. She looks back at him as he turns her face to him again. Her expression's uncertain, almost pleading with him not to push her away, not to hurt her, not to shut her up. She sighs with a shudder at his words, and her gaze drops from his face to her toes, bare beneath her rags. That smile makes her feel sick, like there's a heavy weight in her stomach, but God. God, it's better than Nadine's false smiles or Julie's leers.]

There ain't no one here or in Nott, Sir. I'm on my own.

Edited 2021-09-16 20:15 (UTC)

[ Turning his head, he lets out a sharp laugh. It comes out quick, obviously amused by the man's flat and vaguely sarcastic tone. ]

Right. No ocean of blood. Ugh!

[ He pauses to turn his head to stick his tongue out; the slimy thing wiggles obscenely in the air. ]

Surely!

[ His tongue snakes its way back into his mouth. However, the way that he says that one -- surely -- sounds like he isn't so sure that he is that multifaceted a person. ]

What do I like? [ He runs his hands along the metal, musing aloud. ] That's a really hard question for someone without memories. [ Bringing his hand back, he points to his own face. ] But I don't think I'm the type of person that has loved ones.

[ So, scratch that idea out! ]

Nothing really comes to mind. [ His hand rests on his hip. ] Isn't that funny? I can't think of a home I'd like. I can't think of a scenery that'd please me. I can't imagine anything that'd comfort me, but between you and me, buddy, I am feeling pretty chill right now.

[ Fixing his gaze on him, he smiles. ] Like, I get the feeling like you might try to kill me at any second, but it's more like, "Oh, that might happen." Isn't that funny? Shouldn't I be more worried about it? [ He admits how pathetic his feelings are; he can create anything that he wants and there isn't anything he desires. ]

What a cool guy that I am. Too cool to need anything! [ He mocks his own existence with a smile and a laugh; he likes himself as he is, so there is that, at least. ]

Well, sweetie, nothing matters here.

[ He cocks his head to the side as he explains his stance. Sure, he created his little city and statue, but that is more letting his soul create things on autopilot. Nero, himself, didn't attempt to build anything. ]

If what you say is right, life and death have no meaning. I find that kind of boring, so I'd like to go somewhere it means something.

[ Perhaps, only Nero would find the Horizon and its boundless possibilities, he wants to only be in the real world. Whether or not he has his memories, he doesn't seem to care; he just isn't too keen or enthralled with the Horizon in his amnesiac state. ]

But I am sorry to hear that you got nobody. [ He continues on, dismissing his own feelings easily. ] Well, if you got more complaints, I'm happy to listen to them.

[ A pause; he makes a small gesture with his hand as a bench manifests by the statue. He lets his hand drop from her face so that he can hold his arms out to an imagined audience. Look at this shit, his pose seemed to say, am I not a genius for figuring it out so quickly! ]

Standing around isn't good and my legs are getting tired. [ Nero says as he plops down on the bench, then lightly pats the space next to him. ] Because you know, all the comfort and warm feelings that you're feeling right now... as soon as you leave they'll mean nothing. It ain't like it's gonna keep you warm when you return where you go.

But, let's keep lying to ourselves a little more, huh! [ He pats the bench harder. Sit down and whine; he's having fun listening to her lamentations. ]

[ Everything about Nero is just... repugnant, Amos figures. He narrows his eyes at his out-loud musings, the animated way in which he talks. It's grotesque. A mockery of— well, not humanity, since the guy clearly isn't human, but... not being that multifaceted a person, yeah, he can see that.

Has to remind himself that he actually does have loved ones. They're back home, and he'll probably never see them again, but he does. There's a clear line of separation between him and Nero. It's not a great sign, though, that Amos has to keep reminding himself of that.

He does not smile in return. ]

Don't think any of us can die here. So wouldn't be much point to trying to kill you right now. [ Otherwise, no, he's not denying it. Out in the real world? That's still very much on the table. Someone who doesn't care at all, though — well, Amos already knew Nero was dangerous. It's uncomfortable, how similar the cloth they're cut from may be, even though Nero expresses himself in a completely different way. On the surface, they're clearly nothing alike; deeper than that, and Amos has his doubts.

At least neither of them can do any real harm here. They're just... stuck together, now. Amos doesn't even get why Nero had to show up here in the first place. He'd been having a peaceful moment; now he's not. ] Maybe you could make a void of nothingness. It's what I did when I first got here.

[ The last sentence just slides out; can't help but wonder if he's gonna regret that or what, but it's out there now. ]

That so?

[ He tucks his hands into his pockets. Ah, pockets? Nero pauses to glance down at the attire that he's wearing. The clothes -- or shape of the clothes -- initially were just a black smear across his body. Letting things go on autopilot, he has created pants and short boots for himself. The top of his clothes fades to create a long jacket that hangs open to show his bare chest. ]

Guess I'm proud of myself. [ He lightly runs his hand over his chest. Huh? A bandana appears over his forehead. Something bothers him about that, but he lets it go. It isn't like it's gonna make sense to him, anyway. ]

When you first got here? So, you also don't have anything that you love or hate?

[ He turns to fix his gaze on the man. ]

So you want the chance to be killed? Or to kill?

[Eponine's not keen on letting Nero know that she's met him before in the dungeons back in Thorne. She's quite worried that it'll somehow trigger his memories and cause him to remember her and her promises.]

I thought I wanted to die. Maybe yes. I am not so sure, you know? I don't want death to hurt. But sometimes I think, wouldn't it be nice to have a rest? No one shouting at you or hitting you or that again? Never starving again? Or being cold? I'd like that, but death, he is a hard master. He makes you work for it as well.
[She sits down gingerly on the bench next to Nero. His smile isn't kind. It's triumphant. She's not sure if it's because he created the bench or because she's obviously upset. Self consciously, she arranges the rags of her skirt so her legs are mostly covered.]

I like lies, you know? There is safety in lies.

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All that Remains

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