faderift | [SEMI-OPEN]

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[SEMI-OPEN]

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.

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"Christ," Amos rumbles. "I owe whoever names things on this planet a kick in the teeth."

"And yours are better?"

"We don't call Baltimore Crime Town."

Primly as you please: "Hardly our fault if you humans insist on not naming things what they are."

Snort. "Yeah, yeah. I appreciate the labelling. When you in town, Sis?"

"Most days, if there's no work that needs me in the Gallows," she says, "I trade rounds with a few of the other Sisters and midwives who live in Lowtown. Why?"

"You in the Gallows?" Amos summons up his rough approximation of charm. He winks. "Guess I'll be seeing you, Sis."

She snorts and kicks his boot lightly, "So long as it ain't for a knife in your gut. What's your name so I know to listen for it."

That's good. He doesn't actually enjoy flirting. It just seemed like what a normal person should do to a nun.

Nuns are very hot.

"Amos Burton," he gives her a shitty little salute, his expression fading back into blankness. "Mechanic, not that people... do that."

The blankness doesn't bother her so much as it pings something in her brain. It's familiar, though not something she'd ever expected to see on the surface.

"Not that I know of," she says, shaking her head, "I think I've heard Stark talk about it. He's like you." They're still deep enough in Lowtown, she's not inclined to out the man to any eavesdroppers, "It's like metal working, isn't it?"

"I can weld," a shrug, casual. "Who's the guy who keeps the ship working out at sea? I'm that guy."

Her face scrunches up and she shudders. "I don't know anything about boats, Serah Burton, and I don't intend to learn any time soon." She does try to add helpfully, "There are those in Riftwatch who are familiar with that kind of thing. Sailing and the like."

"It's not really like that." Amos squints, thinking. How the fuck do you describe space. Why the fuck would you? "Doesn't matter. I'll check it out."

Stark. He can remember that.

"It's a surfacer thing," she says, casting a distrustful eye toward the general direction of the ocean. And then one up to the two moons just for good measure. "Interesting as the surface is, I can't say I'll ever get used to some of the things you lot get up to."

"You never been on a boat?" This surprises him, though it barely registers in his voice.

"Twice," she says, as grim as if he'd asked if she's ever killed anybody. "Don't know how anybody can stand not having stone underfoot."

He doesn't know why, but it seems important to state, "lady, I work in space."

She frowns, "What do you mean?"

She has a distinct feeling she won't enjoy the answer.

Amos points up, straight up. "As far as you can go."

Yes, that is indeed the worst answer ever. She does glance up and shudders again.

"Guess surfacers are crazy no matter where they're from," she says, still casting distrusting glances up towards the sky, half expecting a man or a whole ship to fall from it.

Still... She does have to ask, "So how do the celestial bodies stay up?"

"Gravity's relative," he scratches his head. "You should really be asking how we stay down."

Can he explain physics to someone with a five year old's understanding of physics? Should he be? Who cares, he likes this lady.

"Stay down... You mean on the ground." She ponders that, "I wondered that myself when I first came to the surface. The Stone keeps us when we're below and there isn't anywhere to fall to per say, but that's not so on the surface." She looks back up at him, keen interest replacing the existential terror of space, "I've read some papers that theorize about the forces that cause us to fall to begin with. Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, but being underground isn't it," he says. "You ever put a marble on a sheet stretched tight? Or a rock, whatever."

"We have marbles. And no, I haven't."

But now she's going to try.

"Huh. Okay," Amos says, and while the words are generally cheerful, his expression remain blank. "You get some marbles, I'll get a sheet, I'll show you next time."

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okayimin - 2020-10-22 21:39 (UTC) - Expand

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innerharbor - 2020-10-22 21:41 (UTC) - Expand

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