[ He shrugs at the idea of having been through the wringer. Maybe. But really, it wasn't any worse than anything else he'd already been through. Parts of it were brutal, sure. And Amos does give him a nod at the notion that space travel has been romanticized — yup. Plenty of things about living on Earth are much easier.
But he'd taken to life in space like a fish to water, so the tradeoff was worth it.
Abel goes silent for a moment, and Amos watches him, waiting for whenever he's ready to speak again. He doesn't mind chatterbox mode, but turns out this is kinda nice, too.
The smile he's met with especially.
He cocks his head at the idea that the technology could be lost. So much of his society is dependent on it that it's unfathomable to think that one day that knowledge could just. Disappear. The idea has him mystified, only for him to scrunch his nose in something like distaste at the idea of going back to Earth. ]
Been living up there for something like 20 years now. Maybe more 'n that. [ And, he sobers. His eyes go soft as he regards Abel. His toes flex a little as he's all the more aware of the dirt beneath his feet. He doesn't hate it, it's just kinda. Well. An alien sensation. ] Never had a reason to go back to Earth. Never had much of a mission, either. Space was just a better place for me to be. And that's where my people were, so, wouldn't have wanted to go back anyway.
[ He looks back up at the brightest stars. No clue what the star chart here looks like. One way or another, space has always been a constant in his life, and now it's just... gone. Completely unattainable.
Which, apparently, Abel knows something about. So, back to him. ]
If we can ever burn those whips, I'm probably fine being planetside again. But. Damn. No rockets or anything — that's something I've never had any experience with. Gonna take some time to adjust to that.
[ Assuming they have a lot of time even left — but it's only a blip of a thought in his mind. Seriously, thanks, Abel. Almost feels like there's still a future for them here. ]
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But he'd taken to life in space like a fish to water, so the tradeoff was worth it.
Abel goes silent for a moment, and Amos watches him, waiting for whenever he's ready to speak again. He doesn't mind chatterbox mode, but turns out this is kinda nice, too.
The smile he's met with especially.
He cocks his head at the idea that the technology could be lost. So much of his society is dependent on it that it's unfathomable to think that one day that knowledge could just. Disappear. The idea has him mystified, only for him to scrunch his nose in something like distaste at the idea of going back to Earth. ]
Been living up there for something like 20 years now. Maybe more 'n that. [ And, he sobers. His eyes go soft as he regards Abel. His toes flex a little as he's all the more aware of the dirt beneath his feet. He doesn't hate it, it's just kinda. Well. An alien sensation. ] Never had a reason to go back to Earth. Never had much of a mission, either. Space was just a better place for me to be. And that's where my people were, so, wouldn't have wanted to go back anyway.
[ He looks back up at the brightest stars. No clue what the star chart here looks like. One way or another, space has always been a constant in his life, and now it's just... gone. Completely unattainable.
Which, apparently, Abel knows something about. So, back to him. ]
If we can ever burn those whips, I'm probably fine being planetside again. But. Damn. No rockets or anything — that's something I've never had any experience with. Gonna take some time to adjust to that.
[ Assuming they have a lot of time even left — but it's only a blip of a thought in his mind. Seriously, thanks, Abel. Almost feels like there's still a future for them here. ]