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"Binding Retribution!"

There wasn’t thought, only action, only the words fleeing his mouth and ink unfurling from his skin; graceless tangle that hunted enemy — friend — confusion that so laced the magic that it nearly rent apart, even as it sought, so hard, to latch and hold.

Automatic response to seeing -- him -- of all people -- in all places. By happenstance surely, but still? Albite didn't even feel like he had control over it anymore, the way his magic surged and roiled hot along his skin, leaving him feeling flayed raw inside and out, because it was Amsvartnir - ******** - Thorite, and he wasn't sure if it'd be a mockery to call him by who he was. Who he had been?

Was that mean of him -- ******** -- did he want to be mean to -- to someone who probably wasn't even his friend anymore? Knew him, but still...N' yeah it'd been in the middle of chaos, a battlefield, but still!! Helluva rude way to get a costume change reveal. However lovely the colors were, even bled black, even turned back as they were now - bright hued wonders. The way Amsv looked good in them - better? Happier? If not for the pale shock on his face.

All the thoughts that bore down on him, as he bore down on Amsvartnir. Yanked on the tether pulled tighter than his temper, seethed at his once friend.

"You set me on fire, Eliot. I mean, what the actual ********."

“It still hurt El.”

Like his head, like his heart, like — Oh. It’d still hurt and even after the magic had faded, the ache hadn’t faded with it. Not from the attack - no - the betrayal. The way he’d had to wrap his head around the fact that his friend had gone beyond his reach. How Amsv had looked at him like — like that — like he didn’t know him, like he was ugly.

“It still hurts, right now even.”

And Amsv hadn’t wanted to, but had, hadn’t he? Regardless, without pause. Someone shouted an order and he just..

Protecting his people, like Waru hadn’t been his? Like he wasn’t still..ohf..and the rejection woulda been fine if they coulda talked! Discourse over how all things were fair in love and war. He woulda let it slide - ‘Thanks for the memories, but we’ve got ideological differences!’

He would’ve taken it — would’ve listened. Talked. For days or weeks or hours about why!!

“Because I was being nice, yeh? I coulda —-“ caught the glint of wetness that shown in the corners of Amsv eyes, wanted to swipe it away as badly as he wanted to crush him down. Put a fist into his face and watch the back of his head bounce off of, concrete? Tile? Whatever shaky surface he felt like he was standing on. The way it felt in his mind like the whole world was shifting out from beneath his feet even when everything was still.

The way his grip tightened on the soft little squire held coiled up in his grasp. “—I could do, so much ******** damage, yeah? It’s not even My Magic, hungry as it gets. It’s just..me. I don’t tho, huh, I’m picky about who I try to put in the dirt..I was careful, even. None of ‘em were dead when I was done with em. You though?”

He’d let him go — was talking sideways for how he knew he would’ve done the same for his own people, protected them, against enemies surely — against friends though? Thought maybe that was the issue, all the ways he looked at Amsv and saw soft reminders of how he’d once been a friend.

“....Amsv…..you hurt me.”

And seeing him alive wasn’t making it any better, and seeing him dead? Albite wasn’t sure if that would fix it…

“And I don’t know what to do with it. Hah, about it?! Does it, does it even matter to you? Is there even enough of you left in— in this — to care about that!?”

Because he didn’t know how it worked — switching sides - what got kept and what got lost in the process. Had seen blank damage, had seen recognition and plucked apart instances of memories.

"I just --- I want to argue with you, so badly."

The outburst was a balm, soothing aloe over the scald of past pain. To hear that he cared - to hear that he hurt. Inside where it counted, because anything else wouldn't have been enough, would've been less than either of them deserved. For the whiplash surprise of Thorite disappearing as one, only to show up alive and well as another person entirely -- himself but changed -- and far far beyond his reach. Like he hadn't been worth telling at all.

Like he was Evil.

The soft sooth, so quickly shanked by the way he wanted to seethe for the confusion of it all. The snarl he bit back for how Amsv called it Chaos. Albite ground his teeth until the muscle that jumped in his jaw ached for it; because how ******** dare!?

'Chaos' - cliché phrasing for all sorts of s**t that just...wasnt!

"I want to tell you that you're wrong. Especially about -- ******** - Chaos, really? Cause yeah, sure, that's what I'm head over heels for. What gets me up every morning."

It was perspective though. More importantly? It was Thorites perspective --- it was --- a choice. For all that it burned, that Amsv hadn't even asked, he understood the reasoning behind it. Logically. That he wouldn't have left with him, though not because of some deep infatuation with the Negaverse, or some great overbearing love ******** had a limit - a line - knew firmly where it was drawn and what it would've taken to make him pack up his whole damn self and make that sort of sacrifice. At least he thought so. Right up until he poked it with something sharp. Found doubt behind the thin veil of 'what ifs' -- and wondered truly if there was any one he'd leave for, even himself? Didn't know why he should've. Not when he thought he could have it all, both ways, whenever he wanted. Could have his cake and eat it too - pick his friends, his enemies, and play above the rules....

"Except that'd be a hell of a lot easier if you didn't look so..." Happy, healthy, whole --- all the words that sat sour on his tongue. Sucked the anger out like poison from a wound, because Thorite cared. He knew. Amsvartnir cared. It was clear on his face, in the tears he shed. Albite couldn't blame him for making a choice. "You coulda talked to me. You shoulda. Before - Amsv - not after! I woulda listened."

Swore it as he spat the words, always listened, could've done that, could've - done it and kept it to himself even. Had managed it so far, because Amsv was harmless, was only protecting people Albite had been hurting - letting live - but still...

"More importantly? I woulda let you live. They wont though. ********> We Wont - place that in capitals and make it Royal. Cause whoever helped you get here - to this - they'd better be able to help protect you, too."

Running around like he was. Power's out and identity on flagrant display to those who'd known him before. Albite worried it was going to get him killed, or corrupted or - worse. Not by him - not even if they ordered it. Terrifying thing that was to think about; because he could fight. Friends, foes, all day long he could throw down, but killing people he used to know? He wasn't sure he could. Especially with how it took everything in him just to step on all the ways he wanted to keep. So that Amsv could be happy. The tears were there and he wanted to -- to have the right, the privilege - to offer comfort where it was due. To gnash his teeth and cry foul.

"I don't want you to be anything you aren't..yeah...but I want you to be dead even less. No matter how good rainbow-bright looks on you, yanno?"

"I-I honestly thought you might've died after. After the Rift fiasco?Idunno." and if he scrubbed his eyes, if he breathed. It was fine. He could step away from his anger. Could step back from Amsvartnir. Even if he couldn't quite meet his eyes. He could admire the mans choked smile. The gold stripes that met white and blended into -- cosmos colors. Soft pallet and soft folds that lay better on his friend then the drab twenties gear had before.

Though he kinda missed the signature newsboy hat. That'd been a whole thing. He'd liked it. Liked his friend. Missed him, even as he stood tall and sure of himself before Albites very eyes.

"I'm fine Amsv. Promise." except for all the ways he wasn't. Like how his heart hurt, and how more of his friends had gone missing. Had 'gone' - period. "Good as I could be, atleast. I got all upgraded n fancy before the hill mess. I put on a shirt, even." one step away from bat wings, from climbing a ladder that sometimes felt like more of a trampoline. It was fun...wasn't that what it was supposed to be?

A good time.

Not for everyone though. Not for Amsv who had so much fear -- whose voice shook with it. High key of panic that Albite instinctively had to stop himself form reaching for. Hated that. Shouldnt've been afraid of him - of being overheard - of...None of it. That wasn't fair.

It made sense though. The image of Ochre going from being alive - to not - was a stark reminder of all the ways it could've gone bad for Amsv if anyone'd found out before.

"I'm sorry...that all of this. That it felt like that to you. You were never a 'thing'." the last word spat out over a sigh. How he felt drained for feeling, so many ******** things. For having to take the apology, the way Amsv gave it so honestly that he had no doubt he meant every word of it. "It's not your fault about the letter either. Not like I had an office or anything to leave it in..." if the letter was - had been - it was gone. Or already in the hands of someone else, whoever Amsv had left it with? It didn't matter now, hadn't had any effect on him in the aftermath. "...just...breathe Amsv. Yeah? I haven't even told anyone I ran into you on the field. I know how to be quiet about some things." and it was easier to talk if he put his hands away. Locked them into his locks behind his head and stared skywards long enough to feel the wetness at the corners of his eyes run a little more dry.

"Whoever was over you...if they're looking? It's not through me. Not at me...not for you...not yet." that begged the question. If anyone else knew Thor was alive as a cosmos knight? How many friend's he'd had between one side and the other?

Albite didn't know -- couldn't tell -- and if anyone asked?

It was his problem..n Amsv..the guy was harmless..not worth hunting. Maybe for him? Over hurt feelings and in hopes that he'd find him switched back to swaths of black, but aside from that? He wasn't about to go running to people and cry 'traitor'. "If they do though? I can always play the fool. It's my second best skill."

Albite nodded as he stepped back. Tripped and swallowed over sharp tacks of apology that refused to spill - for what even - he didn't know anymore. The look that graced Amsvartnir's face, he felt that, embodied it. The touch of exhaustion that he wanted to rid himself of, simply from talking. Such a rare, unpleasant thing to feel - for how Albite so often loved the sound of himself. Loved talking with people.

Alwaysalwaysalways...

Not when thinking 'traitor' tasted just as sour as speaking it would've. Not when it was Amsv, even if it rung true in some sense.

"You too, Amsv. Don't let 'em catch you."

Stay safe, stay away, ******** - stay home! Don't let 'me' catch you

Terrible thought, because he was 'they', wasn't he? Was the them he wanted to warn people like Amsv off of encountering, while in his current state of 'being the enemy.'

"I'll see you when I see you...."

He had to go. Albite hissed for the realization of that as he turned and fled like he'd faced down something deadly, instead of the face of his once friend. If anyone asked? He'd never seen him. He'd fully embrace being the forever half wit who didn't know hide or hare of a rainbow squire with a cane.

At least -- for now.