[ It's all Amos can do to shrug at first. I dunno. What is it that people do with land? He'd love it if he could become a plant guy, but he wouldn't know the first thing about it, and with his track record he'd probably kill everything, anyway. It's one of those nice to have in theory, less so in practice kind of things. Or where he'd work better as a supporting player, but he'd need to have someone to give him guidance first, and... isn't that always the issue.
But then there's the change in Sam's expression, that extra engagement, enthusiasm, and it's a really, really good sign for Amos. Even if it's just about being somewhere with advanced, approximated tech. (And he doesn't think it is. Amos thinks Sam himself might want to hang out with him, too. That this really is something beyond politeness. Strangers finding solace with one another in a strange land. It's not a foreign concept.) ]
Sure. [ It's a simple statement, but there's a pleasantness to his tone, to his entire being. That this is what playing host is like. Never thought he'd see the day. He doesn't hate it. ] I'm generally free whenever. Get up with the sun, go to bed sometime after it sets kinda thing. I don't got a real routine or anything. [ Because, you know. Totally alone. Doing a great job of acclimating to a communal society, here. ] You can bring your crawfish. Never seen that on the Roci before.
[ There's humour to his voice, though he's also serious — it'd be an intriguing novelty. Holden would probably get it. Naomi and Alex wouldn't, but none of them are here anyway. It's a little private joke for Amos. One day Sam might get it, too. He's not going anywhere, after all.
Amos frowns, glancing upwards in thought, back at Sam. ] I might make my way out there. Already did one trek across empty and hostile lands; I could probably manage another. [ It's both empty musing, and... maybe not. Maybe he is serious about this. It's something for him to think about, at least. In case Solvunn doesn't perk up, doesn't offer him direction, doesn't... do anything for him. A place to stay. A job. ] Kinda getting the sense I'd be able to do more there than where I'm at now.
[ It was the waiting in prison that was starting to get at him. The lack of anything to do. He's free in Solvunn, now, but it's kind of the waiting game again. A day-to-day slog. Which is fine, except he'd had a taste of more back home that Sam is reminding him of now.
There's almost a mock offence to Amos' tone when the topic turns back to prison food, though. Later, after all of this, he'll reflect on what it means that he was able to feel this comfortable with someone else this fast. ]
Hey! It's all natural grown. You know how long it's been since I had anything like that? You get used to the culinary up in space, and some of it's pretty good, but then you get the real thing again and it's... [ Amos' voice trails off. He doesn't have a word for it. Amazing seems lacklustre. ] No other place to grow meat in space. You gotta calculate every last resource you have. Animals don't exactly rate high on the priority scale. Definitely not ones as big as those fuckers. Gotta make do so you can actually live up there.
[ He looks almost pleased at the thought of hunting, though. ] Y'know, I've never hunted before, but kinda feels like one of those things I could do. [ It's not a boast or anything, just plainly stated. Killing something to eat later? An action he can take for an action he'll enjoy. ] Don't even mind that much that there won't be fish. Everything you can eat on this planet's incredible, far as I'm concerned.
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But then there's the change in Sam's expression, that extra engagement, enthusiasm, and it's a really, really good sign for Amos. Even if it's just about being somewhere with advanced, approximated tech. (And he doesn't think it is. Amos thinks Sam himself might want to hang out with him, too. That this really is something beyond politeness. Strangers finding solace with one another in a strange land. It's not a foreign concept.) ]
Sure. [ It's a simple statement, but there's a pleasantness to his tone, to his entire being. That this is what playing host is like. Never thought he'd see the day. He doesn't hate it. ] I'm generally free whenever. Get up with the sun, go to bed sometime after it sets kinda thing. I don't got a real routine or anything. [ Because, you know. Totally alone. Doing a great job of acclimating to a communal society, here. ] You can bring your crawfish. Never seen that on the Roci before.
[ There's humour to his voice, though he's also serious — it'd be an intriguing novelty. Holden would probably get it. Naomi and Alex wouldn't, but none of them are here anyway. It's a little private joke for Amos. One day Sam might get it, too. He's not going anywhere, after all.
Amos frowns, glancing upwards in thought, back at Sam. ] I might make my way out there. Already did one trek across empty and hostile lands; I could probably manage another. [ It's both empty musing, and... maybe not. Maybe he is serious about this. It's something for him to think about, at least. In case Solvunn doesn't perk up, doesn't offer him direction, doesn't... do anything for him. A place to stay. A job. ] Kinda getting the sense I'd be able to do more there than where I'm at now.
[ It was the waiting in prison that was starting to get at him. The lack of anything to do. He's free in Solvunn, now, but it's kind of the waiting game again. A day-to-day slog. Which is fine, except he'd had a taste of more back home that Sam is reminding him of now.
There's almost a mock offence to Amos' tone when the topic turns back to prison food, though. Later, after all of this, he'll reflect on what it means that he was able to feel this comfortable with someone else this fast. ]
Hey! It's all natural grown. You know how long it's been since I had anything like that? You get used to the culinary up in space, and some of it's pretty good, but then you get the real thing again and it's... [ Amos' voice trails off. He doesn't have a word for it. Amazing seems lacklustre. ] No other place to grow meat in space. You gotta calculate every last resource you have. Animals don't exactly rate high on the priority scale. Definitely not ones as big as those fuckers. Gotta make do so you can actually live up there.
[ He looks almost pleased at the thought of hunting, though. ] Y'know, I've never hunted before, but kinda feels like one of those things I could do. [ It's not a boast or anything, just plainly stated. Killing something to eat later? An action he can take for an action he'll enjoy. ] Don't even mind that much that there won't be fish. Everything you can eat on this planet's incredible, far as I'm concerned.