[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

[acreage]

Thanks to Amos, he's at least used to friendly displays from people stronger (and/or more forceful) than he is. So he only maybe winces slightly, but mostly laughs.

"Holden. You've never had coffee before?"

[muckspout]

Edgard shakes his head.

"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?"

[acreage]

Hmm.

"The coffee beans probably came from the ground," he says uncertainly, with absolutely no idea how coffee grows.

[muckspout]

"That explains why I like it." Edgard nods thoughtfully. "I like the ground. The best things come from there."

[acreage]

"...Do they?"

He's curious, not doubtful.

[muckspout]

Edgard cocks his head.

"Do you not agree?"

[acreage]

There's actually a long moment where he has to think on that.

"I used to think so," he admits, slowly. "I guess I haven't thought about it in a long time."

[muckspout]

Edgard nods thoughtfully to that. He senses something more to that, but doesn't pry. They sit in silence a moment, but it's a comfortable silence. Edgard smiles.

"Some say I think about it too much. Are you new around here?"

[acreage]

What Edgard can sense, but can't know:

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."

[muckspout]

Edgard cocks his head and sets the now empty cup down.

"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."