[ He keeps his teeth bared against everything Set has to offer him. It’s annoying, the way he refuses to stay still, grains shifting and buffeting at his whims, the potential to be overwhelming, overpowering in number. Amos himself is someone who stays stationary, a bulky figure who refuses to be buffeted, to be further worn down than he already is. His personhood eroded over his early years, only slowly and unknowingly being built back up as he grew, but he is not letting the same thing happen to his body — or, in this case, all he has to express himself.

Set will not cower; Amos will not relent until he does. ]

The fuck you did. You couldn’t take your eyes off of mine the first time you saw one. What, you get hard when you found mine? You get off on having one? You feel a rush when you use it to club a kid in the face?

[ There’s another rush of anger there, spitting fire along with his words as he remembers what Set had done to Gen when Amos had still been recuperating from being dragged by a centipede, hadn’t had the chance to rush in and stop him. Gen’s blood running freely down his face because of his gun— ]

You dumb fuck, you don’t even know how to use it. It’d be better for you if you actually did throw it into oblivion. But you’re never going to do that, are you? Someone like you never could.