Luis
The Drama noticed this, what with his nails, and merely marked it off as another effect of the alchemy that Amos underwent. Yes, he had decided that if any aspect of Amos's story was true, it was that aspect. It seemed to be too good of an explanation to mark as a lie. The other thing he decided to believe... Oh, most certainly, it was the competition, and the fact that he had stolen his brother's show. That seemed all too plausible for high elves, but at the same time would be too unbelievable for someone to say if it were a lie. On top of that, he felt that if these competitions happened, the story with the brother had to have happened as well, or Amos had previously schemed about doing it, even if he never truly did. However, he didn't connect Amos betraying his brother to the alchemy; truthfully, he found that connection to be a particularly weak part of his story. Why would such petty competition escalate to something so dreadful? 

And another thing... Why would Amos be so careful as to not show the Drama his wrists? Yes, he had noticed full and well how careful Amos's movements were, and it was puzzling to him. Truly, the mystery of Amos has yet to be solved, and all of these small hints and half-truths made the mystery that much sweeter. Truly, Amos knew how to make curious men like him come back for more.

"I shall tell you one of my pen names, and be off." He replied, readying one of his names to tell Amos to find. There was a catch, though. "However, I will only tell you if you promise you will visit me in Gerong on some later date, and perhaps then we can discuss one of my books, or whatever else you may find interesting." As the Drama added another trade to their interaction he let out an impish chuckle.
Pearl
On the other side of the coin, Amos was quite sure most of the story was a lie he'd been given. Perhaps he had been stabbed, yes, but he felt like much of John's story was far too fantastical to be real. Mostly because any Oriate's story he heard before never read out like an actual story. But, John also claimed to be a writer, and he was not someone Amos had much time to pull apart and examine, so he could be truthful. 

Still he was a bit surprised to find he genuinely *Liked* Being around the odd fellow. He didn't want to tell him his life story, but he likewise wasn't put out by his disposition or attitude. It was sort of nice as he waited for John to decide upon which pen name to give him (Another thing; If he has so many, which is he using now?). Then he smirked at the catch, pausing to think a moment before answering.

"Gerong? That's ah... Down the river, heading towards the ocean, isn't it now?" He said after a few moments of thinking and orientating himself. Getting to his feet properly, he held out his hand briefly to help John from his crouching position. It was also another trade and he paused in thought before speaking again, "Well, that sounds fair, however only if you don't mind meeting in the outdoors again."

It was a minor requirement really, but it helped him feel more comfortable.
Luis
Outdoors? The Drama was hoping that Amos might be able to meet him in a better place, like a restaurant or one of the shops that he frequented. No matter, he supposed, a park would do. The Drama nodded with a slight bit of wait after the question, as he could do nothing to hide his thinking.

"I believe you would enjoy a good mystery novel or two, no? I write most of my mystery novels under the name *Jessica Cross*. You might be able to find them in libraries or the occasional book store." The Drama took Amos's hand and pulled himself up. For a macen, even for a vampire—especially one wearing gloves—his skin was remarkably cold. His grip was firm but even through his gloves Amos could tell that the Drama's hands were soft. The Drama was extra sure to keep his hands in pristine condition, and because of his job as a clay mason he had to work extra hard to do so. His remarkably clean and spotless body was one of his most prized accomplishments.

"I shall see you around, Amos. Again, thank you for your time. It was wonderful." As he spoke, he began to away, roughly in the direction of Gerong. He carried himself with elegance and style, and his walk had a sense of majesty to it.
Pearl
The nod was enough though he waited patiently at the silence as John seemed to be rolling around pen names in his head. Pausing at John's assessment he shrugs faintly, "I would, really, read anything by now. A bit of escapism wouldn't be a terrible thing, and mysteries do tend to be a bit of fun."

He paused at the name, nodding and committing it to memory as he helps John up. He notes the hands, but if John is a writer? Well, that didn't seem all that unusual. The coldness however *Was* Odd; Macen ran just as warmly as Elves did, or any other race. His gloves should insulate his hands, build up heat, but...

He did not mention it, just smiled and nodded as John headed off in the vague direction of Gerong. "See you when I make my way there then, John." He paused to make sure that John is definitely making his way off before he begins to walk, moving in the other direction. He just needed a place to rest, really, but away seems the best for now.