[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.
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.


A
"What are you drinking?" He asks. "Can I have some?"
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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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
Edgard waves his hand acknowledging the drink gift and finishes the coffee in a single gulp. He smacks his lips again.
"Maybe it's growing on me. You're alright." Edgard hits the man hard on the shoulder. (It's friendly). He nods. "Edgard."
no subject
"Holden. You've never had coffee before?"
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"Seems like a rich people drink to me, although" He points the empty cup at Holden. "I think I like it. It smells of the ground. I like that."
He grins at Holden. "Did you get it from the ground?"
no subject
"The coffee beans probably came from the ground," he says uncertainly, with absolutely no idea how coffee grows.
no subject
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He's curious, not doubtful.
no subject
"Do you not agree?"
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"I used to think so," he admits, slowly. "I guess I haven't thought about it in a long time."
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"Some say I think about it too much. Are you new around here?"
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It's a question that takes him back to being a boy, to afternoons spent lying in the grass and watching clouds pass overhead, to the sweet scent of dark earth and growing things, the rustle of tall plants swaying in the wind and the distant lowing of cattle. To the bounty of harvest time, all hand-picked apples, fresh ground wheat, sweet-smelling cream, and still more, sensations that all live in his childhood. Carefully boxed away in his heart and mind like the yellowed pages of a book that'd crumble if touched.
He ran away and put that life behind him, but not as distant as he'd once wanted to believe.
"About as new as it gets," he admits, "as far as I understand. I'm still learning the lay of the land around here."
no subject
"Still learning things too. Only been here a few months. From Orlais." He grins a little at the last comment, knowing his accent gives him away.
"Seems like I am not poisoned. You're alright, Holden."