Exile on Main Street

[Huitzil]

The first thing you hear, upon opening the front door, is a casual "Hey". Underneath it, you hear the muted, staticy voice of a local TV news announcer breathlessly recounting the latest crisis, but through the fuzzy waves of static you cannot really make out what she says.

On the couch, in freont of the TV is a man, lanky and scraggly, with a faded Army Reserve jacket and a pair of carpenter's jeans that look to be about on their last legs. He's hunched over, elbows on his thighs, watching the happenings on the TV. His hands are reddish and bony, and his face is a candle-tallow pale. In his hand, he holds an opened can of ICB root beer, with brownish foam collected around the lip. If not for his hair -- black, an unkempt, whirling jungle of follicles that grows from his scalp as far outward as it is long, with an intangible aggressiveness that one usually doesn't find in a standard head of hair -- you wouldn't be able to recognize him, but as it is you make the connection. It's Paul Durant, aka Unseen, then known as Huitzil, then known as Atropos, then known as someone who just vanished with no warning and no forwarding address six months ago.

"They just broke in to Home Improvement," he says without looking up, "They say that San Francisco is in ruins. Well, more so than it was already. They think it might be the Home Guard again." He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair, though it doesn't have any visible effect. "Crazy shit, huh?"

[Bjorn]

Bjorn, who had been following Rez and Dracos into the place, hears the voice, and tenses.  Dropping once again into mugamae, Shinmyouken at the ready, he looks at the other two for a sign or signal.

[Rezantis]

Rez just looks at the interloper tiredly.

"Who're you, why're you here, what's going on, yadda yadda yadda.  I'm too tired for this."

[Dracos]

Dracos silently draws his katana and shakes his head, lifting it as well.

"I don't recognize ye...  Now who da bloody hell are ye?"

Dracos

[Huitzil]

He takes a too-long, slurping drink of the root beer and turns to face you, his look of casual calm vanishing when he sees the drawn katana. He stutters a moment, throwing a planned speech out, then looks a bit cooler as he puts the can down on the arm of the couch and speaks.

"Well, I thought I knew what my name was, but apparently I was wrong; it's Timmothy Renard. After all, that's what it says on the driver's license you had on the kitchen table, and it has my picture and everything on it. Even got the birthday right. Why I'm here... well, I was hoping that you guys would have an explanation as to why my name is now Tim, and why you have a driver's license for me at all."

[Rezantis]

"He's Unseen, guys.  Paul Durant.  And I don't know -why- the fuck we have a driver's license for you, but we got it along with our own.  Apparently someone thought you'd show up."

Rez wanders over and slumps down on the other couch rather ungracefully.

"This has been a bad fucking day.  So what brings you to the house of McGrail, Mr Renard?"

[Bjorn]

Bjorn straightens, and enters the house, quietly.  Without saying anything, he squats down by the wall near the door, where he can watch both Paul and Rez, because any answers he can get will be all to welcome at this point.

But mostly he watches Paul, with hard eyes, because over the past week or so, trust has become a rare commodity.

[Dracos]

Dracos frowns and sheaths his blade, heads over to a nearby wall and just slumps against it.

"You know, I'm fuckin' sick of this shit already."

Dracos

[Huitzil]

He stands up, looks startled. "Why would you call me that, I ... well, son of a bitch. I must have met you guys over IRC!" He looks to his side, and starts smiling in suprise. "Well, things are already wierd as shit already, why the hell shouldn't I meet up with my old e-pals? How the hell are you guys -- WHO the hell are you guys? Forgive me, but I can't recognize you unless you're wearing a name tag with angle brackets on it. IRC... holy shit man, what are the odds, huh?"

He grabs the can up again and takes another drink. "You know," he adds, "The reason I changed my screen name is because I thought 'Unseen' looked dumb, and it defeats the purpose when you still call me that."

[Dracos]

"Dracos.  And you best have brought extra of that shit."  Dracos kicks off the wall heading over and sitting near Rez, putting down the katana by his legs, hand steadying it easily enough.

Dracos

[Rezantis]

"I'm Rez, and I can't pronounce Huitzil,"  Rez sighs, "so what are you doing here?"

[Huitzil]

He points to the kitchen area. "I got a six-pack in the fridge, help yourself. It's your house, ain't it?"

"And how I got here... Man, it's a long fuckin' story. And about as believable as two guys who ran a forum I posted failed RPGs on would meet up from, like, halfway across the damn world and run into me in the ass-end of Nowhere, California. Why're you up here, anyway? Soulriders goon housing development?"

[Bjorn]

Bjorn says nothing, partly because he's far more interested in having Paul actually answer the question on the table, and partly because he finds that he's really goddamn tired.

Tired, and sore, and confused, and angry, and sad, and really fucking proud of myself that I haven't tried to gut anyone for stress relief.

[Dracos]

Dracos heads over to the fridge, grabs three cold ones, hands one to rez and stumbles over to Bjorn and hands him another, "Ye look like ya need it."

Kneeling down there, he snaps off the cap on his own and takes a drink.

Dracos

[Rezantis]

"Well, hey.  You obviously got sent here by someone, because dumb luck doesn't bring one here on their own.  And, well, we sorta figured it was time for a change in scenery."