[ Amos thinks he's got a decent handle on Geralt. At the very least, there's no real confusion between them; what you see tends to be what you get, and Amos appreciates that. So the way Geralt reacts to his analysis of where they are — and he doesn't say shit to be polite, it genuinely is nice — well. So he missed something there.
Maybe it used to be nicer. He'd think that unheard of, but considering how much of the actual world they're in is shit he's never experienced before, yeah. Maybe it was better before.
He follows Geralt's gaze towards the medallions, meets his eyes again when he comes back. Doesn't know the significance there, but there clearly is one. What he does recognize is the straightforward way Geralt talks; the meaning behind the words. Despite the vast differences between where they came from, there's that understanding again. Amos absorbs what he says. Doesn't really have a whole lot to say in return. Except. ]
You still hunted after, though. Got paid for it. If someone stiffed you, you just walked away. [ Don't fit into the world around you, check; try anyway, check. ] Why?
[ Amos has his why: Lydia taught him, and he'd seen direct rewards from those lessons. But it's still not a fix. There is no fix. There's no repairing those parts of his brain; there's only damaging them further.
Except fucking magic exists here. And Geralt's from somewhere like that. There's suddenly a new variable to the equation. And Amos knows better than to get his hopes up, but data collection never hurt. ]
no subject
Maybe it used to be nicer. He'd think that unheard of, but considering how much of the actual world they're in is shit he's never experienced before, yeah. Maybe it was better before.
He follows Geralt's gaze towards the medallions, meets his eyes again when he comes back. Doesn't know the significance there, but there clearly is one. What he does recognize is the straightforward way Geralt talks; the meaning behind the words. Despite the vast differences between where they came from, there's that understanding again. Amos absorbs what he says. Doesn't really have a whole lot to say in return. Except. ]
You still hunted after, though. Got paid for it. If someone stiffed you, you just walked away. [ Don't fit into the world around you, check; try anyway, check. ] Why?
[ Amos has his why: Lydia taught him, and he'd seen direct rewards from those lessons. But it's still not a fix. There is no fix. There's no repairing those parts of his brain; there's only damaging them further.
Except fucking magic exists here. And Geralt's from somewhere like that. There's suddenly a new variable to the equation. And Amos knows better than to get his hopes up, but data collection never hurt. ]