Who? Amos & Gen Where? Starting at Ernest's house. When? After their texts. What? Exploring the sights. Rating? TBD Open? No.
Amos had really been enjoying exploring Cuba. It was the kind of opportunity he'd never expected to have. Of course, working with the circus had kept him touring, but it had kept him primarily to the cities of the Midwest. It was so good to see somewhere that was more than just steel and concrete. He could breathe the air, he could hear birds in the trees, feel the sun on his skin, and watch the ocean's ebb and flow.
He could hear himself think. It was strange to be away from screens and radios and white noise and distractions. He could actually hear his own mind, and it was strange. He'd started to listen to it back in his own world, but it had always taken a lot of effort and concentration, but here it was unavoidable.
But his own mind was apparently quite exhausting, so he had been glad to hear from Gen. Not least because he remembered that he'd been a jittery wreck straight from the war last time he had met her. This time, he felt much more relaxed.
His shirt sleeves were currently rolled up, able to be pulled down and cover most of the ink if they were to stay out after dusk for some reason. And even a simple thing like that made him feel calmer. And yet, something about the station, and about Gen, told him that no one would be all that perturbed by his skin as they had been at home. So, he waited by the gate, listening to the sound of a light breeze in the trees, and tried to remind himself that it was okay to not listen to his apparently very noisy head all of the time.