[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]

"And," he guesses after a beat, reflexively making a fist with his shard-carrying hand, "they don't care for people in my position?"

This time: Rifter.

[hornswoggle]

John's hands spread in front of him, a slight shrug, in response.

"I wouldn't presume to guess at what the Divine feels."

There's a twist of humor in John's expression.

"There were negotiations, I believe. Enchanter Julius would be a good man to speak to, if you're curious, or the Provost. I was still far to the north when it was all occurring, but I believe the question of people in your position was discussed at length."

Maybe John could be forgiven for focusing his attention on the decisions affecting mages, rather than Rifters. One had been more pressing than the other, but now—

"I work in the Diplomacy office here," John offers. "I can tell you that someone in your position would be welcome, if only to offer us a viewpoint none of us would be able to inhabit on our own."

[acreage]

It wouldn't hurt to look into, the negotiations John mentions. He makes a note of the names Enchanter Julius and the Provost, nodding along as he listens. Where he stops nodding is the suggestion, which makes him laugh despite himself.

"I'm sorry," he says, holding a hand up. "I appreciate the offer, but you don't want me anywhere near your Diplomacy office."

He'd like...to be done...causing diplomatic incidents...

[hornswoggle]

"And why is that?" John asks, some flicker of amusement in his tone.

Whatever this man was, John doubts he's any worse than the rest of Riftwatch. Even at their best, they were an unruly mess of an organization. There's little chance this man could be a bigger liability than the talking skull, or certain other parties John could think of.

[innerharbor]

Where do you find the Cap? The coffee place. And then you listen to him gab while you drink your coffee. It's pleasantly earthy, the water in the brew having the flavors of real, unfiltered water, not recycled a thousand times and scrubbed free of every microbe.

He hopes there aren't any heavy metals in there.

After the coffee place, it's easy to follow Holden, making sure he doesn't get into trouble in a city he's got no right wandering off in.

Amos steps in when it suits him. "Hey, Cap!" He calls. "Tell 'em about the time you almost started a war."

[acreage]

On the one hand: incredible that a man as big as Amos is capable of being so stealthy Holden missed him until now.

On the other hand: why wouldn't he be around, really.

On the other other hand: Yeah, that's why.

"'Almost' is probably being generous," he sighs, briefly passes a hand over his eyes. "There was a war."

Where's Avasarala to explain what a diplomatic nightmare he is!

"And there's usually a couple of governments who hate us at any given time."

Squints in Amos's direction to try to remember the current tally. Mars definitely still does, Earth is...ehhh. They have a lot of goodwill from the Belt, but it's not like he hasn't antagonized the hell out of Dawes and Johnson. Or like Drummer likes him any better than she did the last time they talked.

[hornswoggle]

"Then you'll feel right at home here."

Is this comforting to hear from one of the leaders of the Diplomacy division? Surely the truth is helpful to acclimate.

"I can't say we're hated, but we're regarded with a fair amount of skepticism. And we're already in the middle of a war, so..."

A pause, accompanied by a minor shrug as John looks between them. There is a simple truth here: regardless of what these men choose to do or avoid, their presence is already a topic of discussion.

"I can only say, were it me, I'd like to have some leverage in any negotiations that would affect my life here for as long as I would be present."

Not to dwell on what might happen to Rifters when they left.

[innerharbor]

"Yeah, you got a war. You want another one?" Amos asks amiably. He pats Holden's shoulder. "Here's your guy."

He sips his coffee. "I can help. You got a lot of real motherfuckers in this place."

[acreage]

"Amos."

What he says: Amos. What he means: I know you think you're helping, but the point's been made. Possibly, he just sounds mildly agonized.

What he says to John is, "We'll think about it."

And means it, not just said as a pleasantry — not that he's much given to them, likely something clear to John already. Is it comforting to hear a leader from Diplomacy be so frank? It doesn't hurt, and plain talking will always rise someone higher in his estimation than slipperiness. At least they know the score, or part of it.

"It's a good point."

[hornswoggle]

John's gaze lingers on Amos, some light amusement on his expression. This isn't the time for indulging curiosity, but he can make a guess at what Amos might excel at.

A very specific kind of Diplomacy, maybe, but not the kind John deals in.

"I'm not a difficult man to find, if either of you have questions after you've done some reading."

Or searching. Holden strikes him as the type to ask questions. His partner, maybe less so. But still, there's no harm in the offering.

"Ask after John Silver in the Diplomacy tower. Or in any of the taverns along the waterfront. I'm a fairly easy man to find."

Straightening as he speaks, book lifted from the bench as he shifts his weight onto the crutch. A particular gift of John's: knowing when to make an exit.