INTRO LOG #2

[abraxasmods]

Intro Log #2

It has been two months now since the initial group of summonings first took place. Castle Thorne, or at least the part above ground, is buzzing with a vibrant air of hope following the 'success' at the Singularity. Eager smiles and excited chattering are to be found in nearly every corner of the castle and surrounding town. The honored guests may find grateful looks turned their way more often than not. A new and brighter day seems to be dawning on the kingdom.

In the dungeons it's a different story entirely. The mood is somber and uneasy. The prisoner taken for trial has yet to return, and no word has come regarding her or her fate. There has been no mention of any further trials as of yet and guards seem to have little patience for unruly behavior or even conversation. Some seem to not even look at or acknowledge the prisoners at all.

[ Feel free to continue threads from the TDM here or start your own! As cell and room assignments will be short-lived due to this month's event, you're free to assume whichever cellmates and roommates you like instead of officially signing up as long as there are ICly no more than four people in a cell or room at once. ]

Comments

[baltimores]

[ At first, Amos doesn't move. It'd be a reasonable assumption to think that he hadn't heard Lloyd at all, sitting there unnaturally still, staring out at the wall. But then, with a slow blink, he turns his head in time to see Lloyd approach, as up close and personal as he can get here, and he. Just keeps staring, really.

He remembers— he remembers being contentedly alone, he remembers a yelp in a space where sound shouldn't carry, he remembers a flailing butterfly and calming him down and feeling content and warm with his hand on his shoulder, companionship, hoping to succeeding in balancing out nervous energy and—

It's different here, isn't it. ]

Hey.

[ And yet Lloyd is still close. And still carrying some of that nervous energy. And Amos' is— he'd been at peace there, floating in nothingness, or at least as close as he could get to it; here, it's the opposite. He is a bear, and poking him will probably result in something bloody.

And Lloyd probably doesn't deserve that. Not if he's the same person here as he was there. And so far, all signs point to yes.

Amos stays still a moment longer before getting up, movements stiff, almost inorganic, like he's not really a person, but here he's got gravity to weigh him back down. He approaches the bars, but keeps his hands at his sides. There's no reason to stabilize Lloyd here. Not like he doesn't have solid ground to stand on. (Not like Amos needs any stabilizing, himself, even though he very much does — but when you're ready to self-destruct, it's not like you're actively seeking stability.) ]

Fewer colours out here, huh.

[ Lloyd's outfit. Or the gas clouds dusted across parts of his domain being replaced with drab prison walls. Either or, really. ]

[jealousbitch]

[ Lloyd watches him intently as he gets up off the worn bunk, tracking the tense, jerky movements until Amos stands in front of him on the other side of the bars. He shifts his feet but doesn't move away. The dungeon always feels heavy, but this is something different entirely. Maybe it's just fake muscle memory, remembering how they were able to just float there. It didn't really happen, just kinda in their minds. Like a really vivid dream.

Doesn't mean it didn't feel real.

Lloyd clicks his tongue in distaste, his expression sour. ]

I miss havin' my own clothes. Feels like I'm just wearing a fancy pillowcase.

[ Yes, his tunic is much nicer than the clothes the prisoners are forced to wear, but he's been dying for some loud colors and patterns since he got here. ]

[baltimores]

[ He glances down when Lloyd shifts his feet, standing his ground without really doing it. Not sure what to make of that.

At least he isn't running away, though. Not sure why, but Amos is grateful for it. It's probably stupid. ]

Looks a lot more comfortable than this shit. [ He'll always take function over niceties, but Amos would also prefer, you know, to wear something that actually feels nice. Not a sack, and definitely not a sack that reminds him he's still in prison. Has been for months. Probably only has one way out, at this rate.

Still, he gets the sentiment. Can't begrudge that. ] They don't let you pick out whatever you want?

[jealousbitch]

[ Having been on the other side of the bars and facing someone he'd feared at the time, Lloyd doesn't see any reason to move away from Amos. The man doesn't scare him, and in a way, they're familiar. Even if Amos never met the real Lloyd. Hell, he may not want to, but he can't apologize for the way he is, either. He rather likes who he is. ]

More comfortable than a burlap sack, that's for damn sure. [ He shakes his head with a huff of annoyance. ] They'd rather we didn't. Wasn't anything that caught my eye in the market, anyway. All boring colors and shit.

[ His attention turns away from himself, and he frowns at Amos, a little concern edging into his expression. ] What do you need? Can't smuggle anything too big, but I'm good at improvising.

[baltimores]

[ So he actually does want to wear colours, huh. Makes enough sense to Amos when he thinks about it, if they were going solely off of instincts in the Horizon. The way Lloyd's had him stand out against his endless black.

The way Lloyd was so desperate for companionship there, too. If that's why he's here now.

The way Amos isn't desperate for companionship, despite whatever it is his assigned sign may indicate. (The way he is, and has just gotten really, really good at denial over the course of his life, to the point he can't even recognize it, natural instincts seemingly overwritten with what he thinks they should be.)

He furrows his brow at the question, then meets Lloyd with a flat stare. ]

I need to get out of here.

[ He knows Lloyd can't get him that. It's just, he asked, and that's the only thing he needs. Nothing material — even if it was something big — would help. He just needs to. Not. Be trapped. Anymore. ]

[jealousbitch]

[ Boy, does Lloyd understand that need more than anybody. The need to be anywhere but behind the cold, unyielding bars that you're desperate enough to try tearing away screws with your bare fingers. Hell, he wishes it was just as easy as letting him out. Given his track record with the big wigs in charge, Amos is probably out of luck in that department. Lloyd couldn't even get Julie out, and she doesn't cut the same figure as Flagg does.

He frowns, his brow furrowed. ]

Wish I could, big guy.. If I try and push my luck any more, I'll find myself in there, too. Then what use am I gonna be?

[ Even though it could be seen as a slap in the face after being rejected, Lloyd glances around to make sure the guards have fucked off before sliding a napkin-wrapped bundle out of his tunic and through the bars. ]

It's nothin' fancy, but it's more than the piss-poor meal you've been getting.

[ Inside, Amos can find some bread, some dried meats, and a parcel of candied nuts. Clearly, Lloyd knows what a well-balanced meal is. ]

[baltimores]

[ Amos' stare doesn't really change as Lloyd talks. Yeah, he figured as much. It was a stupid question; it got a stupid answer.

The amount they have in common would surprise him if he knew; Lloyd just doesn't react to things the way he would at all. Wondering what use he'd be, though... Well, he's already pretty clearly useless—

Remembers their time in the Horizon together. It was a rhetorical question. It wouldn't accomplish anything to say that out loud. Lloyd doesn't deserve it, anyway. He's more self-assured out here, less clingy, but the demeanour still feels. Similar.

His eyes flick down towards Lloyd's offering. Back up at his eyes. Amos wants to just leave him hanging; he doesn't because a part of him still knows Lloyd doesn't deserve that. So he takes the bundle. Doesn't open it, though. ]

Food here's not the issue.

[ In truth, the prison food they're getting is the best food he's had in a really long time. Going without natural ingredients for decades will do that. ]

I know you can't get me out. [ His tone, his eyes are even deader than before, if that was possible. There's an undercurrent of violence to them. His free hand involuntarily flexes, doesn't relax again. ] One way or another I will, though.

[ Do they even have body bags here? It's not exactly the end he saw for himself, but really, it's not terribly far off from what he's always known could happen. ]