[ He'd been a bit too far gone to pay that much attention to any of Silco's movements — or lack thereof, in the case of keeping a hand in his pocket, he assumed — but the cigar was a little hard to miss. Amos kept a hand loosely around his glass as he turned his body to face Silco proper before answering. ]
Nope.
[ Normally he might've followed up with something about air quality, how smoking on ships wasn't something one saw too often, but all of that was a little beyond his grasp at the moment. Instead, he just watched with a degree of fascination as Silco lit the cigar before what he'd said next actually sunk in.
He offered up an aborted half-shrug, abandoning the movement when he recognized it threatened to throw him off balance. ]
It's easier being here. [ He was born in squalor, forged by squalor; it's where he belonged, wasn't it? Especially after Venera had reminded him of how there was no hope for him. Not really. He could try to do the right thing and he'd still fuck it up regardless. ] I just... had to get back here as soon as possible. That other place — [ Venera, and how he didn't want to talk about it specifically at all, so why mention it by name — ] fucked with me. I couldn't be there.
[ ... Why was Silco here, actually? If he'd been able to hold onto the thought for longer than a fleeting moment, Amos might have actually asked, considering the other man's attitude; instead, just thinking about Venera had him throwing back maybe half of his glass. Fuck that place. Miserable as his existence was, being here was so much better. ]
no subject
Nope.
[ Normally he might've followed up with something about air quality, how smoking on ships wasn't something one saw too often, but all of that was a little beyond his grasp at the moment. Instead, he just watched with a degree of fascination as Silco lit the cigar before what he'd said next actually sunk in.
He offered up an aborted half-shrug, abandoning the movement when he recognized it threatened to throw him off balance. ]
It's easier being here. [ He was born in squalor, forged by squalor; it's where he belonged, wasn't it? Especially after Venera had reminded him of how there was no hope for him. Not really. He could try to do the right thing and he'd still fuck it up regardless. ] I just... had to get back here as soon as possible. That other place — [ Venera, and how he didn't want to talk about it specifically at all, so why mention it by name — ] fucked with me. I couldn't be there.
[ ... Why was Silco here, actually? If he'd been able to hold onto the thought for longer than a fleeting moment, Amos might have actually asked, considering the other man's attitude; instead, just thinking about Venera had him throwing back maybe half of his glass. Fuck that place. Miserable as his existence was, being here was so much better. ]