[ They're right there on the edge of something; that is, the edge of something that's unknown and an obvious threat by almost any measure, and the opportunity to deal with it decisively. How it looks, how it goes down, those are all different variables and can't be predicted, but he feels probably more sure about this situation right now than he has about anything since he's arrived here.
It's like an itch he needs to scratch, this thing that he has every certainty they'll walk away from having done what they set out to do. The anticipation of that already feels like when you take a really good, deep breath that settles in your lungs. Re-centers everything.
He doesn't have time to think much about her sword, but the sound of it being unsheathed is interesting, unfamiliar. A weapon long past its prime in his world. They use guns and fists where he's from. But in the way that he knows what he's capable of, she's got her sword, and they'll handle it.
— except, there's...nothing to handle.
His eyes have acclimated to the dark well enough, and he goes down that long alley until he hits a dead end, he takes in the shape of every shadow, taps the palm of his hand on the wall to his left, then his right. He wasn't just hearing things, because she heard it, too. And yet, it would seem like nothing at all. A trick of the air around them. A scream is unmistakable, though. Twice. Helpfully, perhaps, he offers — ]
— the hell? [ He looks away from her, looks up now, turns his head left, then right, glancing up towards the roof line. Something was there, now it's not, but it doesn't mean it's gone. ]
That's it? At least come out and say hello. We came all this way.
[ For a stretch of at least a few seconds, there's just dead silence, but then there's a scraping sound from somewhere. To Amos, it sounds like it's just behind them for a moment, and the sound starts to get closer almost, the kind of closeness that sounds like it might pounce from any direction, but as he turns around swiftly to face it, there's...nothing again. ]
it's perfect!!
It's like an itch he needs to scratch, this thing that he has every certainty they'll walk away from having done what they set out to do. The anticipation of that already feels like when you take a really good, deep breath that settles in your lungs. Re-centers everything.
He doesn't have time to think much about her sword, but the sound of it being unsheathed is interesting, unfamiliar. A weapon long past its prime in his world. They use guns and fists where he's from. But in the way that he knows what he's capable of, she's got her sword, and they'll handle it.
— except, there's...nothing to handle.
His eyes have acclimated to the dark well enough, and he goes down that long alley until he hits a dead end, he takes in the shape of every shadow, taps the palm of his hand on the wall to his left, then his right. He wasn't just hearing things, because she heard it, too. And yet, it would seem like nothing at all. A trick of the air around them. A scream is unmistakable, though. Twice. Helpfully, perhaps, he offers — ]
— the hell? [ He looks away from her, looks up now, turns his head left, then right, glancing up towards the roof line. Something was there, now it's not, but it doesn't mean it's gone. ]
That's it? At least come out and say hello. We came all this way.
[ For a stretch of at least a few seconds, there's just dead silence, but then there's a scraping sound from somewhere. To Amos, it sounds like it's just behind them for a moment, and the sound starts to get closer almost, the kind of closeness that sounds like it might pounce from any direction, but as he turns around swiftly to face it, there's...nothing again. ]