exsilium | video;

[The person on the screen strikes a surprisingly mundane figure. He's in his late 30's-- or his 40's, perhaps, as the beard hides some of the wrinkles.) Dark eyes and hair, the latter of which is beginning to recede; brown skin; simple clothing; kind eyes set amongst the lines and creases of approaching middle age.

This is Alberto Reyes. He is an average Texan, an ordinary father... and he wants to get the hell home already.]

I was under the impression that we weren't using the draft anymore. I don't remember signing up to participate in any [other] wars in outer space, either. [And yet he still sounds more or less collected. 'Berto cracks a tiny, slightly exasperated, smile.]

I have a wife; children at home. I can't simply leave them like this. As much as I sympathize, I won't be fighting here, and that is that.

[He hesitates. There's not really a reason for him to have been picked up for something this odd, is there? Ex-military reputation notwithstanding, there's nothing particularly stand-out about him. At least not anything that'd warrant being taken here. Unless...]

[Alberto sets down what he was holding-- a cane-- and starts rifling through his wallet. Finally, he pulls out what looks like a recent school photo and holds it up to the camera.] On the off chance that my son is here [because what else could it have been but his superhero son] please let him know that his father is looking for him. My name is Alberto, and my son is Jaime.

[He shouldn't ask for Bianca or Milagro, should he? That's impossible. At least, he hopes it is.]

Thank you.

[Berto reaches over to cut the feed.]

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[It's been a long year for Jaime. It must have been, in a place like this. But he won't bring that up now: that will take time. He will learn when Jaime finds it best to tell him. Alberto's learned from experience that pushing things like this never ends well.

He rubs Jaime's back, wordlessly, and finally pulls away-- but only when Jaime does first. Both hands rest on his boy's shoulders.]

Now, what are you doing in Las Vegas?

[He smiles and squeezes.] You're lucky your mother didn't find you instead.

[Once Jaime finally disentangles his limbs from Alberto, he scrubs briefly at his eyes with the back of his hand and offers his father a watery half-smile.]

It's a mandatory mission. For a conference they're having here.

[He'd be here even if it wasn't, but it's the easiest way to explain it.]

She's not here, is she? [It's not that he doesn't miss her, because he does, but it's starting to dawn on him that he doesn't really want either of his parents here. It's not a good place.

And if Milagro shows up, then he's damn well hauling them all to the Transporter to send them to, say, Hawaii circa 1990. Somewhere warm and without all those pesky bombings and invasions.]

[Alberto doesn't make any side comments about it. Men don't cry (when others can see), after all.]

I'm a little out of my depth. You'll have to explain it all to me later on.

Edited 2014-02-12 02:49 (UTC)

[And that would be all fine and dandy, but oh dear God, he hadn't fully processed the idea of his wife in Exsilium.]

Oh, boy. I certainly hope not.

[They'd win the war here for sure, but he knows Bianca, and he knows Bianca's anger. He would MUCH rather she be at home with Milagro than anywhere near here: for her own safety as much as for everyone else's.]

I can do that. I might have to write you an essay, though, [he jokes, though it's really only half a joke. So much has happened - and much of it he doesn't really want to get into the nitty gritty details of - but there are some specific things that newcomers really do need to know. Most of it has to do with their collective history and the necessary caution they have to exercise, but he can put together an abridged version.

He'll try to leave out a whole lot of his own personal involvement, for one thing. There are some conversations he's not willing to have right now. As for his mother ever showing up...]

She's probably not, [he says, mostly trying to reassure himself.] That would just be overkill.

[He chuckles.]

I could wait for an essay. You've been doing well in English anyway, it'd-- [And then, a thought suddenly strikes him:] --there's no school here, is there? [Oh, lovely. More bureaucracy.] You'll have to re-enroll again once [not if] we make it back home.

...I hope your mother and Milagro are all right back home.

Oh yeah, school. I guess I will, [Jaime says, and he actually looks faintly weirded out by the idea of it. It's something he had considered for the first couple of months, but it fell by the wayside not too long after. The idea of actually sitting down in a classroom day after day seems strangely odd to him now.

And not that he doesn't want to get back home and get back to normal (or his version of it), but the idea still seems somehow remote to him. Then again, if there's anyone out there who can help him adjust from a year at war, it's his dad.]

I'll have to go back to school, I mean, but I shouldn't have to re-enroll or anything. See, while we're here, no time's passing by at home. It should be the same as we left it. Unless you noticed me missing before you got here...?

[It's the way it's worked for everyone else, but he asks anyway, just in case. You never know with this stuff.]

[Boy, is Alberto glad Jaime corrected that “I guess” to an “I’ll have to”: no son of his is dropping out of high school. The chance at a more straightforward and painless lot in life than he has is the best thing that he can offer his son, now more than ever. After the heroics he’s got to have something to fall back onto, doesn’t he?

But, come to think of it…]

No, I hadn’t noticed. It makes sense, though. [A beat.] As much sense as anything can make sense in this situation, eh? [Time shenanigans. Gotta love ‘em.]

But this mission. Is it safe? Have they been treating you well? It is a war, and there’s only so much to ask for when you’ve been drafted like this [he may have some words for the people in charge once he gets the chance to find someone to complain to] but you have your rights too, Jaime.

[There's a part of Jaime that would prefer not telling his father the whole truth. Not lying, just softening the truth a little in the way he can even back home, downplaying the danger once it's passed. It's easy to do that at home, where he can be assured that his family will be safe at least most of the time, far removed from the heart of danger.

Sadly, that's not the case here. He crosses his arms, shoulders lifting up a little uncomfortably.] The only mandatory missions I've been on have been a walk in the park. They don't really force you to do anything you won't do willingly, besides being here in the first place. We don't talk to them enough for them to treat us in any way, really - I got my own place, with a couple of roomies. And a job. We even got to celebrate Christmas together. [He says all these things as lightly as he can, but it's probably obvious that he's just setting up a bright side to fall back on. Everything he's saying is true, thank goodness, because anything else would be intolerable. He goes on missions, sure, but he goes on them willingly. He had told someone not so long ago that he's not a soldier and never intended to be one, but now? He's not so sure.]

But it is a war. That's never going to be safe.

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