"Sure, but you don't get any more 'till I get the goods," Amos warns, stepping away from the bike to hand over the jar. Despite wearing heavy boots his steps are whisper-quiet: he moves with a lazy grace and a fighter's poised balance.
Party might not have any of those, but he has a focused stare that would make most people uncomfortable. A very direct "I don't trust you until you give me good reason, and even then it's only temporary" statement summarized in a single look.
He takes the jar and opens it, giving it a sniff. As sweet as shittiest candy and soda they shove into their faces when they can, but a loss less non-chemicaly smelling. At least that's how he'd describe it if he was here to make conversation.
Just a dumb flunky, that's him. Amos shrugs and nods. Party's stare doesn't bother him one whit. He's faced down worse and tougher...or at least crazier. "The goods?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-04-13 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-05-07 10:11 pm (UTC)He takes the jar and opens it, giving it a sniff. As sweet as shittiest candy and soda they shove into their faces when they can, but a loss less non-chemicaly smelling. At least that's how he'd describe it if he was here to make conversation.
"How'd you get it?"
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Date: 2017-05-27 02:15 am (UTC)Just a dumb flunky, that's him. Amos shrugs and nods. Party's stare doesn't bother him one whit. He's faced down worse and tougher...or at least crazier. "The goods?"