[ Amos has been working as a mechanic these last few weeks, but he'd spent some time out in the diffusion zones on his days off, namely in search of that missing girl. The promise of more supplies was nothing to dismiss, too, but — it's the kid he cared about finding most. He'd caught the report when she had been found, didn't see any point sticking out there much longer. He'd grabbed a few things from the mall, and he's just made his way back to the city, back to the motel he's been parked at, the motel that's not far from the view of the real Marc, currently crouched at the edge of a rooftop, unbeknownst to Amos.
He still hasn't gotten a room for himself, though he will soon. Sleeping in his jeep doesn't go easy on him; he's just resentful enough of the debt he's been saddled with to want some money saved up first. And while he could just leave anytime he wanted even if he did rent a room now, it's something about just being in his own jeep and able to move freely that gets him from settling just yet, or even making a home in a room somewhere. This means, though, that this fairly nomadic take on things has him attuned to the comings-and-goings of the people here. He doesn't pay that much attention mostly because he doesn't care what people are doing here, how they're living their life. He just notices who's around, which means someone new pings him. At first, not for any other reason than, alright, new guy. One of many.
— But that white suit stands out.
Amos has reclined his seat back about halfway, enough that he still has a decent view of where the guy is going. How many other people around here are wearing suits like that? So he assumes it's Marc, from the bar; where some might be inclined to step out and get the attention of the guy they'd shared a drink with, maybe of the hey remember me variety, Amos is...not like that. Even if he was, the mask is — something, but not enough to compel any deeper thought; Amos is real 'live your life' about it all. But that changes when he stops in front of Room 210, the room Amos is pretty sure that mom and her kid came in and out of the other day. Unless they left and found a better place — which would be a good thing — the guy has no business — ah, yeah, no, he's definitely breaking in. Amos sits up a little straighter now, staying quiet at first, thinking this through.
If he's just stealing some cash for himself, if it was just the woman there and not her kid, too, he might just settle back and leave it. Doesn't think it's right, stealing like this, but ain't his business usually. But there is a kid involved. There's a mom trying to give them a good life, and that doesn't sit right with him. Amos is waiting to hear voices, but they seem to be out for the night, at least. So Marc's breaking into an empty room to take from them. Didn't seem the type. Well, fuck that.
Amos gets up now, moves right towards the guy and promptly yanks him by the collar, dragging him back out. ]
The hell's your problem? [ Normally, Amos doesn't bother with talking in this kind of situation. This warrants action, immediately so, and words are just unnecessary fluff. The guy needs to leave, now, and not come back. So Amos stands over him, while the guy starts trying to scramble to his feet, and Amos puts a hand on his chest. ] You're gonna leave, you won't come back.
[ He has a lot of questions, too, like — what the fuck, brother, didn't peg you for this. But again, that involves words, and really — what's the point? He clearly misread him. ]
wildcard - combo(ish) and lmk if this doesn't work or isn't enough to work with!
He still hasn't gotten a room for himself, though he will soon. Sleeping in his jeep doesn't go easy on him; he's just resentful enough of the debt he's been saddled with to want some money saved up first. And while he could just leave anytime he wanted even if he did rent a room now, it's something about just being in his own jeep and able to move freely that gets him from settling just yet, or even making a home in a room somewhere. This means, though, that this fairly nomadic take on things has him attuned to the comings-and-goings of the people here. He doesn't pay that much attention mostly because he doesn't care what people are doing here, how they're living their life. He just notices who's around, which means someone new pings him. At first, not for any other reason than, alright, new guy. One of many.
— But that white suit stands out.
Amos has reclined his seat back about halfway, enough that he still has a decent view of where the guy is going. How many other people around here are wearing suits like that? So he assumes it's Marc, from the bar; where some might be inclined to step out and get the attention of the guy they'd shared a drink with, maybe of the hey remember me variety, Amos is...not like that. Even if he was, the mask is — something, but not enough to compel any deeper thought; Amos is real 'live your life' about it all. But that changes when he stops in front of Room 210, the room Amos is pretty sure that mom and her kid came in and out of the other day. Unless they left and found a better place — which would be a good thing — the guy has no business — ah, yeah, no, he's definitely breaking in. Amos sits up a little straighter now, staying quiet at first, thinking this through.
If he's just stealing some cash for himself, if it was just the woman there and not her kid, too, he might just settle back and leave it. Doesn't think it's right, stealing like this, but ain't his business usually. But there is a kid involved. There's a mom trying to give them a good life, and that doesn't sit right with him. Amos is waiting to hear voices, but they seem to be out for the night, at least. So Marc's breaking into an empty room to take from them. Didn't seem the type. Well, fuck that.
Amos gets up now, moves right towards the guy and promptly yanks him by the collar, dragging him back out. ]
The hell's your problem? [ Normally, Amos doesn't bother with talking in this kind of situation. This warrants action, immediately so, and words are just unnecessary fluff. The guy needs to leave, now, and not come back. So Amos stands over him, while the guy starts trying to scramble to his feet, and Amos puts a hand on his chest. ] You're gonna leave, you won't come back.
[ He has a lot of questions, too, like — what the fuck, brother, didn't peg you for this. But again, that involves words, and really — what's the point? He clearly misread him. ]