Benjamin
Adrian hung weakly from Amos. He didn't want to be a burden, so he tried his hardest and used all of the leg strength he could, but that didn't stop him from draping over Amos's neck like a soaking wet towel. Something in his body wasn't sitting right. He felt as if a knife was shoved in his stomach and was being twisted clockwise, then coutner clockwise, 11 o'clock, 2 o'clock, 11 o'clok, 2 o'clock... He felt burning hot in his chest, but freezing cold in his fingers. He almost felt like he was dying. It was a horribly familiar feeling, but where it came from he couldn't pin down... He thought about it, and it got him thinking about the Drama too.

It got him thinking about how much he hated himself; however, just as he started thinking, Amos broke out into a story. He could only half listen, staring off into space as Amos's words came together like balls of wet, gushy clay. However, this wet gushy clay was enough to get him to not think straight. It made him stop thinking about what he was thinking about before, now instead his thoughts were replaced again with the pain in his body. As Amos's story came to a close, Adrian nodded.

"Yes... That sounds dreadful... I don't think I'd ever want kids." He slurred. He stared blankly through the eye holes in his mask, watching the street pass by them. The story of children, and his recent meal led him to think of something.

"I can vaguely remember a time when I was a child... A... A street rat, I was, and a pack of rats I belonged to... We had to steal to eat, you know. I always felt bad doing it, but I just had to. There was no other way to eat..." He looked up at the dreary night sky.

"It looks like rain soon. You may stay the night at my place, if you feel so inclined..." Adrian looked to Amos, talking as if he had totally forgot the horrors that Amos just witnessed.
Phyllis
He didn't mind bearing John's weight, and kept his pace even with the now sickly seeming man. He wasn't sure what to do, or how to feel really about it either. He knew some basic facts really; Lenore was more than likely sent by his siblings, and Lenore was now dead. That meant it was a matter of time before more were sent. 

Despite himself, he had begun talking because otherwise all he had to focus on was that the past had not quite forgotten him; Not as much as he had hoped. Letting out a breath as he finished, Amos paused and half chuckled. "It.. Probably was and I can't imagine ever wanting them. My mother seemed constantly angry with herself for having three of us. Never quite forgave herself." Had he said that before? He thought he might have, but he wasn't sure. His mind felt too busy.

"...Stealing to survive isn't something to feel bad for. Or I wouldn't think it to be," He says quietly, though he nods. "How many others?" He wasn't sure who he was distracting at this point.

At the offer of a place to stay from the rain, he feels his muscles tense. Staying indoors would be better than outside, but- "...If it isn't any trouble, please. Thank you." He says quietly before he can overthink it.
Benjamin
Adrian thought for a moment at the question of how many, for he wasn't actually sure. In fact, he was never sure. Any time he bothered to count the number was always different. He swore he knew all the kids that were there forever, and yet some came and some disappeared. He never noticed, maybe he just never had the time to. He shook his head as he decided on an answer.

"Too many." He groaned. "There are so many orphaned children on the streets of Salvania that it's impossible to count. I don't want to even begin trying..." He felt his stomach where most of the pain was coming from, and rubbed the scar through his clothes. Adrian was never quite sure where it came from, he only knew that he was awake one day, then slipped in and out of consciousness the next few days. He remembered he was woundless, then wounded. A distinct gap was right there in his memory, and even the time after felt like it happened thousands of years ago, though truly it was only twenty. 

Adrian nodded as Amos accepted his offer.
"Good... Good. I wouldn't want anyone sleeping outside in this weather..." He looked up and pointed at a small two story shop wedged between a bar and a regular house.

"That's it, right there. The one with the sign with my mask on it."
Phyllis
A silent nod as John noted there were 'Too many' orphaned children to count on the streets. Gods knew he'd seen plenty of people hiding at the edges of society the longer he was out and about; Folks no one really noticed or bothered to pay attention to. It was the same in the pits really in that you tended to know quite a few of them, but they just faded in and out. 

There one moment, gone the next.

Amos set his jaw with a low unease when John said it was good he wasn't going to be sleeping outside when he pointed to the two story shop with the mask on the sign.

"Ah. Well, the mask makes it easier, doesn't it?" He said, thoughtlessly leaning into his own sarcasm to hide his discomfort as he helps John to the door so he could unlock it, swallowing and steeling himself. He wasn't sure what was worse suddenly; Dealing with what Lenore's presence meant, what John had done, or going inside. All three seemed to make his usual discomfort morph into a living presence, lurking around the corners of his mind.