[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

[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.