Benjamin
Adrian fumbled around in his pants pockets to grab a keychain, which only carried two keys on it. The keys were actually tied together with a string so they made minimal movement and, thus, minimal noise. The reduction was enough such that his aura of silence canceled any small noises the keys made by sliding past each other. He gently pulled at the string to untie it, then took one of the keys and stuck it into the lock, then turned it.

"Most doors don't have locks on them yet, you know." He said, giving him something to do while he performed the monotonous task of entering his home. "Locks, especially locks as well as the one on my door, are still somewhat expensive, I believe. At least, it was when I had it installed... I believe the price will go down more once a more efficient way is found to produce them, but most locks nowadays are still handmade, I believe..."

He gently led Amos forward into the house. Though, immediately upon entry, it was a ceramics shop. Of course, a sign was hung on the inside of the window that read closed. Dozens of clay pots and plates were on display, including a few hand sculpted figurines of religious figures, like a jolly little fat man or a man holding his arms out to his sides. Adrian payed no mind to these, as if they were things he'd seen every day. However, he seemed to stop for a moment, as if he wanted to give Amos a moment to take in the scenery or ask questions.
Phyllis
There was a pause seeing the keys tied together, and for a moment he wanted to ask why, but he let the moment pass by. He could ask later if he remembered, and right at that moment he had too much going on inside his own mind to bother. So, it was stored away to be revisited later as John began to talk of the locks on the doors.

"I'll admit, I can't recall many locks on doors from when I was younger," He said, distracting himself from the inevitable. "Plenty of latches, and the like of course, but our home was older so there were more images and incantations about than locks unless the room was exceptionally important." He wasn't sure just how well he had told his age with that, but it was true. Important rooms he recalled had frightening images on the doors instead of locks to ward off unwelcome intruders, but he could recall his mother investing in a few locks for important doors. Well, important to her and father. 

With the door open, he let himself be lead even as he supported John as much as he may still need it. Automatically he closed the door behind them and paused to take in his surroundings. It wasn't a bad place really, and Amos really rather liked the sculpted figures and items about, but he couldn't focus on them very well. Not with the looming pressure over his head. Instead he took a breath, then said, "Where should we go?"
Benjamin
"Of course... We should go upstairs. That's where my living area is. That door behind the counter." Adrian pointed to said door.
"It leads to my workshop, and there is a flight of stairs that leads from my workshop to the second story." He listened to Amos, the story telling Adrian of his age, as Amos seemed to believe. He didn't care much for that detail, though. He was used to elves being older than they appeared. It wasn't a surprise to him at all.

"Amos... Are you anything like how you were when you were a kid? I don't mean physically, I'm aware of the changes your body underwent, but..." He paused, then sighed. He lifted his mask up over his head, then pulled it off. He held it under his arm and looked at Amos.

"I mean your mind. Would you say that, as a person, you're different from the way you used to be?" As he asked this, his voice shifted in and out of the intonation that the Drama would use. He was in an odd mental state, more so than normal. He felt as if he was halfway between himself and the Drama, as the emotional numbness and extreme curiosity began setting back in, while his grief and the pain in his stomach remained. This manifested in the introspective question he asked not just Amos, but himself.
Phyllis
Amos pauses and nods when directed on where to take John, helping him if he still needs it to head to the door behind the counter, then up the stairs at whatever pace John seems to need to go at in order to safely ascend. He was aware of a pulse in his head that might have been a headache developing, or growing, but it was so far only a warning. Then again, pain hadn't bothered him for quite some time.

"...As a kid?" He repeats, pausing a moment to look at John finally. He wasn't sure if he had been avoiding it or not really, but at the question he took a few moments to consider himself. He was definitely not the same person he had been a century ago, but when he considered it he wasn't so sure he had changes enough to be someone else.

"I'm not so sure," He said finally, once they had finally reached their destination as he had taken his time getting up the stairs to think. "I know I am not exactly the same, certainly. I would claim I've grown in some ways, but in many others I have remained the same. I'm probably still a bit of a shit," He concedes, "But I don't believe I look at people the same as I once did. I suppose all the pieces are still there, but they're arranged differently, and I've gained as many as I've lost over time. I suppose that's not a very good answer though."