[ In a choice between a bottle of liquor and a bottle of beer, he's usually grabbing the liquor (and he will), but hey, might as well try something new while he's here. Especially if it just comes with the whole — resort package.
— kinda like the antsy crowd they just can't shake. They could handle it a little better, maybe, if they saw something happening. If he leaned in and kept turning the valve and hooking and unhooking the hose, maybe that would calm them down. Maybe not. But he's not here to reassure them or make nice. Any of them could have stepped in to try and fix it, they didn't. Either they didn't know how or couldn't be bothered. Either way, they're no worse off than they were.
Amos shifts up onto the heels of his feet a little, closer to the tank, but casts a glance over his shoulder when he hears the guy warning someone, and he looks between them. Silently, he thinks, if the stranger from the crowd was smart, he'd take the warning for what it is and step away. But he starts to speak, which is now the second (or first) mistake.
"Are we actually going to eat anytime soon? What are you even doing?"
Obvious slurring in his words; good combo — drunk, hungry, and probably already edgy from the heat. Calmly, Amos starts to slowly hook the hose back to the tank, no hurry to his movements, just following the steps he think will get them where they need to go. ]
You know what we're doing. It's just not happening fast enough for you. [ And he sure isn't moving faster for him. ] You heard him — step back.
[ Amos is neither peacemaker nor instigator, but he will handle something swiftly if it turns into a something. If they wanna be stupid, that's their call, he'll meet it. And he gets the same feeling from the guy next to him. Though, really, he'd just like to fix this thing and move along. Somewhere behind them, somewhere in the crowd not far from them, he hears a bottle breaking, like it was dropped or possibly thrown, and someone's yelling fuck you at someone else.
Amos lets out a breath, not even tense, just — is it really gonna go this way? about it. ]
no subject
— kinda like the antsy crowd they just can't shake. They could handle it a little better, maybe, if they saw something happening. If he leaned in and kept turning the valve and hooking and unhooking the hose, maybe that would calm them down. Maybe not. But he's not here to reassure them or make nice. Any of them could have stepped in to try and fix it, they didn't. Either they didn't know how or couldn't be bothered. Either way, they're no worse off than they were.
Amos shifts up onto the heels of his feet a little, closer to the tank, but casts a glance over his shoulder when he hears the guy warning someone, and he looks between them. Silently, he thinks, if the stranger from the crowd was smart, he'd take the warning for what it is and step away. But he starts to speak, which is now the second (or first) mistake.
"Are we actually going to eat anytime soon? What are you even doing?"
Obvious slurring in his words; good combo — drunk, hungry, and probably already edgy from the heat. Calmly, Amos starts to slowly hook the hose back to the tank, no hurry to his movements, just following the steps he think will get them where they need to go. ]
You know what we're doing. It's just not happening fast enough for you. [ And he sure isn't moving faster for him. ] You heard him — step back.
[ Amos is neither peacemaker nor instigator, but he will handle something swiftly if it turns into a something. If they wanna be stupid, that's their call, he'll meet it. And he gets the same feeling from the guy next to him. Though, really, he'd just like to fix this thing and move along. Somewhere behind them, somewhere in the crowd not far from them, he hears a bottle breaking, like it was dropped or possibly thrown, and someone's yelling fuck you at someone else.
Amos lets out a breath, not even tense, just — is it really gonna go this way? about it. ]
Jesus.