[SEMI-OPEN]

[acreage]

WHO: Amos Burton, James Holden, Wysteria, Ellis, and YOU
WHAT: Two spacemen fall out of a rift, later explore scenic Kirkwall
WHEN: Nnnnowish? Waves hands
WHERE: The Wounded Coast, then Kirkwall
NOTES: A closed arrival thread, plus open individual threads for meeting Amos and/or Jim after their quarantine period.

Comments

LOWTOWN, OPEN

[acreage]

A) THE COFFEE PROMPT

There's a twinge of memory driving him to the markets today. He'll be looking for (1) a cup of a coffee, and (2) a lemon. Maybe you run into him on his search, and he asks for help finding one or the other (or both). Or maybe you're around when he tries slicing the lemon in half, which feels -- ridiculously indulgent, truthfully. This entire venture is. Inexpertly, he squeezes juice into the cup (and some seeds, whoops), and gives it a swirl.

"The perfect cup of coffee," he says to no one in particular, then lifts the cup as if giving a toast, before giving it a taste.

B) THE ONE ABOUT BOOKS

Later, he pauses by a book shop -- maybe just for the novelty of it, unable to stop himself. Unsurprisingly, absolutely none of the literature or authors are familiar to him; but there's something nostalgic, nevertheless, about the heft of a paper book in his hands. One of those luxuries that he hadn't known was one, until after the fact.

He'll glance towards anyone around with a faint half-smile and a shrug. "Any suggestions?"

B

[noonrodeon]

Going to a shop specifically for books is its own indulgence for Noon. All the books he's ever had (never more than one or two at any given time) were traded or bought off junk peddlers. A few memorably came from dead bodies on battle fields. Waste not, want not and all that.

Being one of the first to open a book and feel the resistance in the spine is a rare treat. Being asked about books is another.

A giant bear of a man, he smiles with easy cheer down at the stranger, "Well now. That depends on what you're lookin' for, friend."

[acreage]

That casual warmth is easy to reciprocate, and he smiles as he shrugs.

"There aren't many bookstores where I come from," he admits. "Hard to know where to start."

Though he is, currently, situated near some geographies, histories, looking to learn more about this world.

[noonrodeon]

Noon laughs, a deep rolling sound, "Know the feeling. Thought I was dreamin' the first time I came into a town and saw a whole shop full of books."

He crosses over and lets a sharp eye sweep over the shelves around them, "You're a learnin' type reader or just learnin' about where you are right now?"

[acreage]

"Starting with where I am right now. I don't know as much as I'd like to."

His fingers glide over the spines of the books on a nearby shelf, gently and carefully.

[noonrodeon]

"In that case." Noon pulls down a volume of travel writings he recalls reading snatches of. He holds it out to the man, adding, "Kirkwall can be a tricky sort of place. I'd recommend you mind where your getting your information and don't trust nobody too much til you got your feet under you."

b / not sorry for the double tap

[hornswoggle]

"I could have asked the same of you," returns John, who has lifted a heavier volume from the table to hold noncommittally. Just testing the feel of it in the hand, as if that gives him some idea whether or not it's the correct thing to purchase. "But I suppose it depends on what you're trying to find. For yourself, I assume?"

There's some other, polite questions John hasn't gotten around to yet, most notably: You're new in town, aren't you?

never be sorry

[acreage]

He chuckles, admits, "You could, but I wouldn't be much help."

Which probably goes a way towards answering the unasked question. If there seemed to be a good reason to hide being a newcomer, he'd — at least try, but James Holden can hardly help being overly honest.

"Yeah, just for me." Wryly, as he picks up what promises to be a history of Ferelden, "Looking for some light reading."

[hornswoggle]

A light, thoughtful hum in response, as John watches Holden's selection.

"Getting acclimated?"

A shrewd guess.

"I'm not the best read man in Kirkwall," ha. "But if you're interested in countries, Orlais might be a good place to start. Or if you're curious about our enemies, Tevinter. Assuming there's a worthwhile history compiled somewhere in this shop."

[acreage]

Doesn't seem like this man misses much. It doesn't make Holden warier, exactly, just a little more aware of the conversation.

"Something like that."

But he exhales in acknowledgement, glancing around the shop, at the likelihood of finding a decent history in here; it'd be smart to find others and look at their selections, regardless.

"Why Orlais?"

Genuine curiosity, since the rationale for Tevinter's already been explained.

[hornswoggle]

"Because I've taken what I assume is one of the better books on Nevarra," John quips, fingers drummming the cover of his own selected book, before offering more seriously, "And because it's occupied, at the moment, so by necessity we focus our attention there."

Though even as John says this, he considers that it's a generous summing up of Riftwatch's approach. This organization's attention is fractured at the best of times, split between a dozen different matters and adding more by the moment.

"I assume you're working with us in some capacity?" John questions, with a small nod to Holden's hand. "Or planning to, once you've gotten the lay of the land."

A

[sulahnan]

"You don't want to get coffee here," Athessa warns, standing off to one side. She has a bag of coffee beans in hand, clearly not from this establishment.

[acreage]

He pauses, turns to look at Athessa, and raises an eyebrow.

"That bad?"

[sulahnan]

She nods. "Yeah. Unless you like drinking dirt."

The affronted commentary from regulars within earshot suggests that these people actually do like drinking dirt, but some of the others glance around, wondering if they shouldn't abandon the line themselves. Athessa points up the road, literally up the slope of it, towards a bakery.

"If you're just looking for a cup, the bakery's your best bet. If you want this, though—" The bag in her hand. "—You'll wanna flatter the spice merchant."

[acreage]

"That's good to know."

He has to bite back a laugh at some of the indignant responses — comically offended facial expressions and the likes of some people just don't appreciate good taste — and settles on a brief smile, dropping his head briefly as if to make it less obvious.

And then ditches his place in line, because he's definitely willing to take her word for it. Strong Coffee Opinions people gotta stick together, etc.

"Flatter them how?"

He didn't even realize buying his own beans was an option.

[sulahnan]

It's good that he takes her word for it, not because she has any Strong Coffee Opinions per se, but because she meant dirt quite literally. These people are drinking a mixture of bean juice and mud.

"The usual ways," she says, gesturing with a tip of her head for him to follow. "Ask how her day's going, compliment her hair, smile real pretty."

a.

[justashotaway]

Laura watches with the little frown that passes for open curiosity in her world. It's early morning yet, the markets nowhere near as crowded as they are around midday, and there's a tall man squeezing lemon into his coffee.

"Does that taste good?" Does it taste better than coffee alone? She doesn't mind the flavor--sharp and bitter and usually hot--but the addition of fruit is intriguing.

[acreage]

He looks up at the interruption, but isn't bothered by it. He sets down the squeezed lemon half next to the whole one where it's situated beside him.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. It comes highly recommended."

[justashotaway]

She waits where she is, silent and expectant. This is an answer that doesn't require a response, only observation, as far as Laura's concerned.

1/2

[acreage]

[acreage]

Oh, you're gonna watch him drink it, okay then.

He's gonna. Take a sip.

A

[muckspout]

Edgard watches this man concoct some kind of potion: Lemon, seeds. He watches transfixed as this man drinks it. Edgard, perpetually unshaven and unbathed, knows someone who consumes strange things is someone he needs to know.

"What are you drinking?" He asks. "Can I have some?"

[acreage]

The coffee both is and isn't an adjustment; it's not exactly the Martian-grade stuff he's been spoiled on the last few years, but he's had worse cheap stuff on Pallas, even on the Cant.

The tart lemon flavor is something else, though. Much stronger and brighter than he'd expected, hits the coffee's notes in ways he'd never expected. Ways he doubts Ade would've imagined, either, and that's a familiar dull ache by now.

But Edgard's presence is more than striking enough to get his attention, and his eyebrows shoot straight up as he lowers his cup.

To his credit, he only hesitates momentarily.

"It's coffee." But he's shrugging and handing the cup over. He's got more lemon, incredibly, and fairly easy access to more of both. "Sure, tell me what you think."

[muckspout]

Edgard nods and takes the cup gently in his hands and holds it up to his face. He takes a deep dramatic sniff of the drink and decides it smells pleasant.

He takes a very long pull from the cup taking several gulps. There's only a little bit in the bottom left when he hands it back. He smacks his lips thoughtfully and pauses before saying,

"It is good. I would like it better without the lemon. What else did you put in there?"

At this moment, it occurs to him that he's taken a drink of something unknown from a stranger.

"Poison, maybe?"

[acreage]

Holden waves a hand, amused, when Edgard tries to hand back the drink. No, no, you keep it. He'd truthfully been considering offering anyway, if the other man liked the flavor. Edgard seems like he needs it more than Holden does???

He opens his mouth to answer the first question, chokes on a laugh instead at the second. Well, it's not like this man knows him from Adam, so it's a fair question. This isn't a planet in his system, where his face has been painted on signs for protests, on the walls of stations across the Belt. It's honestly a nice change of pace.

"No poison, I promise. Just coffee with lemon juice. It's supposed to enhance the flavor, though I guess it depends on who you ask."