After a quick set of introductions — he's Amos, he's here to help, here's a robe for your troubles — he finds himself back in a similar situation as he has... a couple of times now. Unruly teen, check, although given the circumstances he can't blame him. Refusing to take something he has to, unfortunately, check.
Amos takes the vial back from Atsumu, bemused and only a little impatient. The second-to-last time he'd done this, he'd wasted too much time, and a Pleroma had fought him off for a new Aion right out from under him. The last time he'd done this, he'd succeeded, and there had been some resentment involved. (A lot of resentment, maybe.) He looks over his shoulder; as far as he knows, the clock's ticking again, but surely he can find the right balancing act this time.
... Probably not. He's not the best at sales pitches, regardless. But. ]
You're outta your mind if you think you're not drinking it.
[ Come on — surely Atsumu can see what's going on here. He's freshly hatched, weak, and at the mercy of someone who clearly knows more than him — and is something of an imposing figure to boot, broad and battle-scarred and the kind of guy who it should become apparent isn't going to take no for an answer. Not here.
Atsumu might be able to detect the slimmest of chances for him. Amos is also still a little weary, still worn down from recent battles; some of those scars are newer than others. But also... come on.
Amos fixes him with a flat stare, though his voice is bright and amiable as ever as he holds the vial back up for him. ]
C'mon. You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way? You get to choose that much.
the kenomaing...
After a quick set of introductions — he's Amos, he's here to help, here's a robe for your troubles — he finds himself back in a similar situation as he has... a couple of times now. Unruly teen, check, although given the circumstances he can't blame him. Refusing to take something he has to, unfortunately, check.
Amos takes the vial back from Atsumu, bemused and only a little impatient. The second-to-last time he'd done this, he'd wasted too much time, and a Pleroma had fought him off for a new Aion right out from under him. The last time he'd done this, he'd succeeded, and there had been some resentment involved. (A lot of resentment, maybe.) He looks over his shoulder; as far as he knows, the clock's ticking again, but surely he can find the right balancing act this time.
... Probably not. He's not the best at sales pitches, regardless. But. ]
You're outta your mind if you think you're not drinking it.
[ Come on — surely Atsumu can see what's going on here. He's freshly hatched, weak, and at the mercy of someone who clearly knows more than him — and is something of an imposing figure to boot, broad and battle-scarred and the kind of guy who it should become apparent isn't going to take no for an answer. Not here.
Atsumu might be able to detect the slimmest of chances for him. Amos is also still a little weary, still worn down from recent battles; some of those scars are newer than others. But also... come on.
Amos fixes him with a flat stare, though his voice is bright and amiable as ever as he holds the vial back up for him. ]
C'mon. You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way? You get to choose that much.
[ Don't say he can't be considerate! ]