Still are, kinda. Good chance you'll meet someone from the 1600s tomorrow.
[ He's already met some pirates from a lot of years back, and met others who are sort of...not completely human, so he wouldn't be surprised to meet people from way into his own future anytime now. Different worlds, different species — someone even mentioned vampires and werewolves as just a thing in their time, so he's gonna just continue to be mostly unsurprised, if no less — interested, in the things he's learning about where others are from.
Amos shifts a little on the heels of his feet, leans back slightly in his kneeled position, just scanning for anything else he might want to unhook while he lets the pressure bleed off. Really just a few last things — he reaches into his pocket for some of the loose screws he'd picked up from the robots, holds up a couple to see if the sizes match the hose going to the fuel tank. One does, the others don't, so he pockets them again, unscrews the rusted one — takes a little extra force, like it doesn't wanna give easily — and gets that new one on. Another minute or two, he'll hook everything back up, see if this "reset" worked. ]
I'm from the twenty-fourth century. Plenty's changed, plenty hasn't. That's how it goes, though. [ Amos looks over at the guy, taps the ground near the beer bottle. ] That any good? [ He's drank things just to drink them before. Don't mean they were good, so. Figures he'll ask. ] Gonna stop by there after this, if they don't turn on us.
[ Considering the way the two of them are effectively sitting and seemingly not actually working on the grill for a minute, Amos can almost feel the tension starting to boil over behind them. No one's advanced on them yet, still, but it's hard to miss the angry murmuring, voices rising in volume. ]
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[ He's already met some pirates from a lot of years back, and met others who are sort of...not completely human, so he wouldn't be surprised to meet people from way into his own future anytime now. Different worlds, different species — someone even mentioned vampires and werewolves as just a thing in their time, so he's gonna just continue to be mostly unsurprised, if no less — interested, in the things he's learning about where others are from.
Amos shifts a little on the heels of his feet, leans back slightly in his kneeled position, just scanning for anything else he might want to unhook while he lets the pressure bleed off. Really just a few last things — he reaches into his pocket for some of the loose screws he'd picked up from the robots, holds up a couple to see if the sizes match the hose going to the fuel tank. One does, the others don't, so he pockets them again, unscrews the rusted one — takes a little extra force, like it doesn't wanna give easily — and gets that new one on. Another minute or two, he'll hook everything back up, see if this "reset" worked. ]
I'm from the twenty-fourth century. Plenty's changed, plenty hasn't. That's how it goes, though. [ Amos looks over at the guy, taps the ground near the beer bottle. ] That any good? [ He's drank things just to drink them before. Don't mean they were good, so. Figures he'll ask. ] Gonna stop by there after this, if they don't turn on us.
[ Considering the way the two of them are effectively sitting and seemingly not actually working on the grill for a minute, Amos can almost feel the tension starting to boil over behind them. No one's advanced on them yet, still, but it's hard to miss the angry murmuring, voices rising in volume. ]