[ Whatever comes next is a complete mystery to him and he can't predict what kind of shit they might (or might not) be in for. Either they're staring into the face of something bigger than a dead guy in an alley, or they just happened to get caught up in the worst day of this guy's life and that's the end of it and there's nothing more to worry about. One scenario is the kind of danger and risk he's more often than not walking the knife's edge of these days.
The other scenario would just be like an ordinary day in Baltimore. Who the fuck knows. But it's not a thing to just call done and walk away from, and it sets him at ease to know that they both seem to be lock step with each other so far. Helps, at least. They don't know each other much yet, but if they can find a rhythm in this, that's...something. And they get to stay a step ahead of what could quickly become a worsening situation.
Amos watches her move, wipes some of the dead guy's blood off on his shirt, but ultimately puts the memory of him behind him with relative ease. His attention now is on Lucina, and he lifts an eyebrow at her jump. Shit, well, ain't that something. Amos steps closer and then he's quick to latch on to the ladder once she's dropped it, following her up silently. The air is mostly still up here, but then he feels a slight shifting of it, almost a breeze, less stale than it was just a few feet down below. Like he can catch his breath. From what, he doesn't know. It's obvious right away where the fight — if it can be called that — happened. There's a small pool of blood a bit back from the edge of the roof. In the dark, it's a little hard to see at first, but there's a white edge of...crumpled paper, too? It just barely stands out, and Amos kneels, grabbing what seems to be a blood-soaked note, showing it to Lucina. Scribbled on it is, simply: ]
ππΎπΎπΌ πΊπ·π½ π π΄π½π
Guessin' it ain't that simple.
[ Did the dead guy write the note? Did someone give it to him? He'd almost wonder why the fuck they were sloppy enough to just leave it here, except people do all kinds of shit like that when they're sure enough of themselves. He's not about walking into a trap, but at the same time, it's an idea of where to go even if whatever's in that room — if anything — has to be long gone now. ]
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The other scenario would just be like an ordinary day in Baltimore. Who the fuck knows. But it's not a thing to just call done and walk away from, and it sets him at ease to know that they both seem to be lock step with each other so far. Helps, at least. They don't know each other much yet, but if they can find a rhythm in this, that's...something. And they get to stay a step ahead of what could quickly become a worsening situation.
Amos watches her move, wipes some of the dead guy's blood off on his shirt, but ultimately puts the memory of him behind him with relative ease. His attention now is on Lucina, and he lifts an eyebrow at her jump. Shit, well, ain't that something. Amos steps closer and then he's quick to latch on to the ladder once she's dropped it, following her up silently. The air is mostly still up here, but then he feels a slight shifting of it, almost a breeze, less stale than it was just a few feet down below. Like he can catch his breath. From what, he doesn't know. It's obvious right away where the fight — if it can be called that — happened. There's a small pool of blood a bit back from the edge of the roof. In the dark, it's a little hard to see at first, but there's a white edge of...crumpled paper, too? It just barely stands out, and Amos kneels, grabbing what seems to be a blood-soaked note, showing it to Lucina. Scribbled on it is, simply: ]
Guessin' it ain't that simple.
[ Did the dead guy write the note? Did someone give it to him? He'd almost wonder why the fuck they were sloppy enough to just leave it here, except people do all kinds of shit like that when they're sure enough of themselves. He's not about walking into a trap, but at the same time, it's an idea of where to go even if whatever's in that room — if anything — has to be long gone now. ]