[ Everything about this situation feels deeply fucked.
Their frozen surroundings contrasting against the kid's crying is bad enough, but it's the Amos' reaction that really gets his blood running cold. Gen stiffens when he hears that choked edge in Amos' voice because -- has he ever heard Amos sounding like that? No. Surely not. Amos isn't the type to ever react to anything like that, he's not ... normal enough for that. Whatever's going on here is deeply, deeply wrong.
It's more reflex than conscious decision when Gen takes a half-step forward to place himself between Amos and the kid. ]
Don't what.
[ The grit of his voice is a hard deadpan mostly to hide the sick feeling that's rising at the back of his throat, tinged through with the sour bite of bile. (That edge of absolute terror in the kid's voice is far too familiar to him. He hates that he remembers that sort of crying with far too much clarity.)
He isn't particularly thinking when he withdraws his hands from his pockets to hang loose at his sides. Maybe it's just so he's ready to draw his mace from its holster as quickly as possible, if necessary. Or maybe it's to show that he's not pulling any funny business at the moment. He wouldn't be able to pinpoint the answer himself. Though he shifts his weight to better hide that child from Amos' line of sight -- because clearly the kid (or the thing masquerading as a kid, whatever it is) is doing something to Amos -- Gen otherwise remains right where he's standing. ]
I won't do anything as long as you ain't starting shit first. Who are you. What're you doing here.
no subject
Their frozen surroundings contrasting against the kid's crying is bad enough, but it's the Amos' reaction that really gets his blood running cold. Gen stiffens when he hears that choked edge in Amos' voice because -- has he ever heard Amos sounding like that? No. Surely not. Amos isn't the type to ever react to anything like that, he's not ... normal enough for that. Whatever's going on here is deeply, deeply wrong.
It's more reflex than conscious decision when Gen takes a half-step forward to place himself between Amos and the kid. ]
Don't what.
[ The grit of his voice is a hard deadpan mostly to hide the sick feeling that's rising at the back of his throat, tinged through with the sour bite of bile. (That edge of absolute terror in the kid's voice is far too familiar to him. He hates that he remembers that sort of crying with far too much clarity.)
He isn't particularly thinking when he withdraws his hands from his pockets to hang loose at his sides. Maybe it's just so he's ready to draw his mace from its holster as quickly as possible, if necessary. Or maybe it's to show that he's not pulling any funny business at the moment. He wouldn't be able to pinpoint the answer himself. Though he shifts his weight to better hide that child from Amos' line of sight -- because clearly the kid (or the thing masquerading as a kid, whatever it is) is doing something to Amos -- Gen otherwise remains right where he's standing. ]
I won't do anything as long as you ain't starting shit first. Who are you. What're you doing here.