[ He's familiar with that stare, and it makes him go unnaturally still. In the span of those few seconds, Amos identifies what, exactly, he's dealing with. This isn't someone inept, or off in a way similar to him. This is someone dangerous, and he's to be taken seriously, no matter how forlorn or self-pitying he may seem.
Which. Amos knows how to deal with people like that: you take them out. There isn't even anybody here to tell him no, except for, apparently, himself.
Because he wants to fit in here. A commune is a good idea. Something so novel for him, it might as well be fantasy, but damn, it's something he wants to be a part of. Wants to make it work.
Is pretty sure he can't, that doubt taking just a little more hold with each passing day, but he wants this so bad.
... And then Nero drops that little tidbit about not fitting in because it's safe and. Fuck. Yeah. It is. And it will fall apart, because safety isn't real, isn't long-lasting. And he doesn't want it to fall apart, but... yeah.
So Nero is dangerous, and he probably needs to be taken out, and he feels out of place because Solvunn is safe, and he and Amos have all of that in common, and absolutely none of this is ideal.
Amos blinks at the sudden change of topic, the new... not friendly, but not-not friendly, smile. The deadness in his eyes dissipates, replaced by a mild surprise. He inhales, takes a drink from his glass. Sets it back down on the table and exhales.
There's a lot in his exhalation. ]
They're alright. [ Which, actually, is a pretty good review. His voice is just a little flat. Still coming to terms with all of that. ] Better than the prison shit. Better than the stuff here, too, [ including what he's got on now, ] but you know. Not as practical.
[ Probably better suited for a fancy occasion — oh, was that the joke — which there aren't many of here. And not like he wants to wear something that nice while doing manual labour. So, you know. They're good, but limited.
Amos takes a moment. He isn't totally sure what he wants to say, but when he does it comes out smaller than he'd intended, like he wants to convince himself and isn't sure he can. ]
Safe isn't so bad.
[ Not that he has any experience in that department. How much better would life have turned out for him if he'd grown up somewhere like this? Probably significantly so but. You know. It didn't work out that way. Best he can do is... hope it does for others. ]
no subject
Which. Amos knows how to deal with people like that: you take them out. There isn't even anybody here to tell him no, except for, apparently, himself.
Because he wants to fit in here. A commune is a good idea. Something so novel for him, it might as well be fantasy, but damn, it's something he wants to be a part of. Wants to make it work.
Is pretty sure he can't, that doubt taking just a little more hold with each passing day, but he wants this so bad.
... And then Nero drops that little tidbit about not fitting in because it's safe and. Fuck. Yeah. It is. And it will fall apart, because safety isn't real, isn't long-lasting. And he doesn't want it to fall apart, but... yeah.
So Nero is dangerous, and he probably needs to be taken out, and he feels out of place because Solvunn is safe, and he and Amos have all of that in common, and absolutely none of this is ideal.
Amos blinks at the sudden change of topic, the new... not friendly, but not-not friendly, smile. The deadness in his eyes dissipates, replaced by a mild surprise. He inhales, takes a drink from his glass. Sets it back down on the table and exhales.
There's a lot in his exhalation. ]
They're alright. [ Which, actually, is a pretty good review. His voice is just a little flat. Still coming to terms with all of that. ] Better than the prison shit. Better than the stuff here, too, [ including what he's got on now, ] but you know. Not as practical.
[ Probably better suited for a fancy occasion — oh, was that the joke — which there aren't many of here. And not like he wants to wear something that nice while doing manual labour. So, you know. They're good, but limited.
Amos takes a moment. He isn't totally sure what he wants to say, but when he does it comes out smaller than he'd intended, like he wants to convince himself and isn't sure he can. ]
Safe isn't so bad.
[ Not that he has any experience in that department. How much better would life have turned out for him if he'd grown up somewhere like this? Probably significantly so but. You know. It didn't work out that way. Best he can do is... hope it does for others. ]