[Location: Central, near but not at Taxon Mall]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

Paul Smecker was wandering around the city, not exactly lost but nowhere near found, either. That sort of blank, overloaded expression common to newcomers flitted across his face at times, although more often one saw frustration. He was mostly looking at his tablet as he walked and trying to figure out the map function, with some goal of orienting himself in the city.

He looked scruffy, the product of not shaving in the two days since he'd arrived, and he looked unhappy about that. In addition, he was still wearing the clothes he'd arrived in-- the shirt, in particular, had a large but now dried bloodstain on the chest. He was also less than pleased about that.

The goal, inasmuch as he had one, was to find a place where he could get a new goddamn shirt, and a razor. (He hasn't figured out hatches yet.) So he was looking for the Mall. And getting goddamn lost.

Comments

Re: [Location]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a relic, I get it," Paul bitched without malice-- and once more resisted the urge to ask things about politics. He carefully watched, though, having already understood that life here basically revolved around these piece-of-shit phones.

"Holo," he read, squinting at the screen (note to self-- go steal some contact lens cleaning solution, goddammit). "That's the projection thing they were yakking about when each of us arrived, yeah?"

Re: [Location]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

"Yup. Like a hologram in a sci-fi flick, it projects a 3-D image of you to people. Personally I'm not sure the purpose, unless you're giving virtual tai chi classes or something," Michael shrugged, "pretty much everything can be accomplished through visual, except for making you feel creepily spied-on when you first get here. You can ring me anytime, though I like phone better than visual when I'm walking."

He gestured in the direction of Sanctuary. "You want to get shaved while I hop a shower, and we reconvene after we scout this ghost town a little better, partner?"

Re: [Location]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

"Duly noted," Paul said with a little nod. Video-phonage felt rather sci-fi to him anwyay, holo could go screw itself as far as he cared.

Shaved. Oh that sounded good.

"That sounds like the closest thing I've heard to a sane plan in the last 48 hours," he admitted. "Mostly because it involves my not looking like something the Yeti coughed up."

Paul hesitated, then offered a hand to Westen to shake. "Under the circumstances, I won't say it's a pleasure, but.... good to have met someone here who's..." Oh so many adjectives one could use there. Normal, sane, of-legal-age, not-chirpy, not from a magical kingdom....

"...not afraid to wear lilac." Paul grinned crookedly at Michael.

Re: [Location]

[midwesten.livejournal.com]

Michael took the FBI agent's hand. With his luck Paul Smecker was going to turn up dead, evil, or nonexistent, but the fact he was thinking that paranoid already probably meant he was sleep-deprived. Or shower-deprived. Either way, the relief flooding his nerves right now was real; "Likewise," he said, shaking it, "though I think navy blue suits your coloring a little better, just, personally."

The grin accompanying his half-hearted joke was real. (And navy blue did look a lot better on him than lilac would, but anyone who wasn't deuteranopic could tell you that.) "Good luck with the razor, Agent."

Re: [Location]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

"I tend to agree," Paul said airily. He hefted his bag of toiletries over his shoulder again, gave Westen a little wave as he turned for Sanctuary.

"Watch yourself out there," was as close as he came to a real goodbye, tossed over his shoulder as he started walking.