[ living solely among the stars for so long... yes, Abel has to imagine that all of this has to be more than a mild shock to the system. even so-- this is so dramatic a situation, perhaps the 'grounded' part of it is far from the most jarring. Amos mentions the whips, for example, and Abel gives a soft huff of displeasure through his nose. ]
Between you and I, my friend? I'm quite hoping we don't have to get used to any of this. Were I to have any say in the matter, I'd like to see you back to your people, and the stars, and your space toothpaste in short order. --Preferably no worse for wear, while we're at it~!
[ perhaps it's idealistic and foolhardy, or perhaps he's merely saying all this to keep some spark of hope alive in someone who had a decided shortage of it. maybe Amos, too, had a dream while encased in crystal... of watching the world, the universe in which he belonged evaporate and dissolve before his eyes.
Abel refuses to accept such a reality. if he has his way, he will not permit Amos to, either - to say nothing of the thought that their time might be short-lived, here. that... that is a prospect he certainly won't even humor. he'll cradle hope in his chest, and Abel will do his absolute best to nurture it in his companion, too. ]
So do me a favor, would you...? Don't go getting yourself roughed up from here-on out, alright? [ slender fingers reach out, delicately, where that ugly bruise mottles Amos's brow in demonstration; the priest cannot help but softly wince at it. ] Next time you go and get yourself all banged up, I'm not above ugly crying. Tears, snot... the whole deal, I mean it, okay?
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Between you and I, my friend? I'm quite hoping we don't have to get used to any of this. Were I to have any say in the matter, I'd like to see you back to your people, and the stars, and your space toothpaste in short order. --Preferably no worse for wear, while we're at it~!
[ perhaps it's idealistic and foolhardy, or perhaps he's merely saying all this to keep some spark of hope alive in someone who had a decided shortage of it. maybe Amos, too, had a dream while encased in crystal... of watching the world, the universe in which he belonged evaporate and dissolve before his eyes.
Abel refuses to accept such a reality. if he has his way, he will not permit Amos to, either - to say nothing of the thought that their time might be short-lived, here. that... that is a prospect he certainly won't even humor. he'll cradle hope in his chest, and Abel will do his absolute best to nurture it in his companion, too. ]
So do me a favor, would you...? Don't go getting yourself roughed up from here-on out, alright? [ slender fingers reach out, delicately, where that ugly bruise mottles Amos's brow in demonstration; the priest cannot help but softly wince at it. ] Next time you go and get yourself all banged up, I'm not above ugly crying. Tears, snot... the whole deal, I mean it, okay?