Roleplay: Reznor x Spizzzo

Dated: September 18, 2026

Grimwych Village Square

Reznor nods to Spizzzo.

Spizzzo smiles to Reznor.

Reznor seems a bit disheveled, but otherwise fine. " How goes it?"

Spizzzo tugs on the corners of his moustache and dips his head toward Reznor. "Doing well, friend. I haven't seen you, have you been here long? I have a fire and some stew near the watchtower beside the lake."

Reznor shakes his head to the initial question, "Few days. Woke up on the shore of the lake...." He scratches his head, neverminding the hair that's infused with a little mud. "...thankfully the fishing has been plentiful. But stew would be a nice change-up."

Spizzzo holds up a warning finger, "I should let you know, the stew is predominantly rat, but I do have someone working on a raccoon." The large man smiles and gestures back toward the watch tower with a gregarious and expansive arm. "Come whenever you're cold or hungry. I try to keep the fire going all the time, never know when another one of us will wash up. I'm Spizzzo, by the by. Spizzzo Spizzzoson."

Reznor stares blankly at the other male for a breath or two. The internal mechanisms of his brain freeze while he imagines what this stew might taste like. Alas, protein is protein. Once his brain finds the right gears, he nods politely, "I'll keep that in mind, Spizzzo. Name's Reznor." He extends his hand. " "I noticed some rabbits by the lake. Might want to look into those, too."

Spizzzo grins brightly as he clasps Reznor's hand, giving it two pumps and a firm squeeze. "Rats seem to be about the limit of my hunting capacity, but if you nab some to spare, I'd be glad to stew them up for you."

Reznor looks Spizzzo up and down from head to toe. "I'll see if I can't find some rope or some wire. Set some snares. I'd be happy share my bounty or teach you a thing or two." The former assassin takes a brief glance around, noting their surroundings. "The whole place this dead? I noticed several sets of footprints out of the lake. You go for a swim too?"

Spizzzo nods and clears his throat, rehearsing this bit in his head to see if he's got a good approach down yet, "Seems like we've started washing up in the lake roughly a week or so ago, one by one. There's a few of us around town, but no sign of whoever built it or lived here before. I think I've met...seven. Eight now, nine counting myself." He gestures vaguely to the points of interest in town, "Tavern, nice, dry. Train station. A train is a type of dragon, from what I understand, but this one's dead by all accounts. And of course the lake you know. Some other houses, shops, a raccoon over there." Spizzzo shrugs and shakes his head at the raccoon's farmhouse. "Nobody seems to know where this is, or how they got here. Most of us remember something from our previous lives, I seem to be one of the exceptions there."

Reznor ran a hand over his face as he processed the litany of information Spizzzo was casually unloading on him. "A dead dragon...huh" He grunted as he shot a highly skeptical look toward the distant station "Interesting." The mentioning of the raccoon barely seemed to register...given the circumstances. But the final point, however, made him pause. His brow furrowed as he dug into his own mind, searching for the edges of his identity. Flashes came back to him. The smell of blood, the weight of a weapon in his hands. A name that belonged to him. It was fragmented, but it was there. He looked back at Spizzzo, his expression softening just a fraction. "I remember enough. Bits and pieces. Just enough to know I definitely don't belong in a ghost town." He let out a long sigh and looked toward the town proper. "Right. So we're stranded, you're drawing a blank on your past, the town is empty, and there's a dry tavern. Sounds swell."

Spizzzo nods, then smiles slowly. "And a fire, some stew, and new friends." He looks back at Reznor and seems to reach a decision, his smile slipping and some of the flicker fading from his eyes. The big man let's out a deep sigh and twists the end of his moustache. "I don't... I don't know if there's anything useful to be accomplished giving in to despair. Some people have been hearing things at night. Maybe just nerves. They're all scared, confused, lost, and alone. Only thing I can think to do is keep the fire burning."

Reznor watched the warmth drain from the big man's face as it was replaced by the burden of something else. The unnatural stillness of the town felt heavier around them after it was mentioned. Rez knew a thing or two about the dark and the kind of things that preferred to crawl within it. "You're doing the right thing. When people are stripped of everything they know, the cold is the first thing that breaks them." He shifted his weight, his fingers curling as they searched for the phantom weight of a sword that his fragmented memories insisted should be there. "But it's good to know we aren't totally alone. There is one that I know. Lettie, Lynx girl with pointy ears. Has a habit of getting herself into trouble left and right." His amber eyes met the bigger man's gaze, flinty and serious. "You keep the fire burning and the morale up. And I'll help you figure out exactly what it is they're listening to when the sun goes down. You ever handled a weapon before? You look like a man who surely has."

Spizzzo nods and raises an eyebrow, pinching the tip of his ear as he remembers the lynx girl. "I met Lettie. Lovely young lady. Her mother was in some distress. Lettie thinks she's coming to terms with things, though." Spizzzo looks down at his hand, comparing it to Reznor's, flexing his fingers experimentally, and finally shrugs. "No idea. My earliest memory is half drowning in that lake about five days ago. But, I know how to read, butcher a rat, start a fire, speak this language." Finally he shrugs, but looks back at the watch tower. "I'll keep the fire burning."

Reznor followed Spizzzo's gaze, his own eyes settling on the silhouette of the watchtower looming against the sky. Instantly, he knew who the distressed mother was. He had to find her, but not now. "Desiree is her name," he reveals profoundly. He caught Spizzzo examining their hands, comparing them as if searching for a missing instruction manual. He didn't need to look down at his own to know what was written there. He could feel the scars across his knuckles and the calluses meant for gripping hilts and breaking jaws rather than tending a hearth. "Muscle remembers what the mind throws away," he offered with a sage nod, "You know how to gut a rat and build a fire because you had to once. Instincts don't drown that easily." He turned his attention fully to the watchtower, his mind cutting through the fog of his own partial amnesia. "The Tower. Mind if I join you for the evening. The vantage point alone would be worth checking out." Not so much the stew.

Spizzzo shakes his head again and smiles, "Nothing would please me more than the company of a good friend by a fire."

Reznor nods and sets off.

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