[b]Kyle walked down the street, twirling the combat knife in his large hands, thinking upon things earlier that evening. That man in the alley... He could've followed him. He should've. But he didn't. But he should've. Who he was and why he was attacking Psions... Two questions he wanted answers to. And two answers was what he would get. But first, he had more pressing concerns... Himself. He looked like where he had come from: a cotton shirt with no buttons to hold together the front, a pair of wicker sandals, and a pair of studded jeans a size too small (it wasn't particularly easy to find anything his size). He was a man from out in the sticks, and he knew it, and so did everyone else that took a glance at him. And in order to find clothes, he needed to find money. Or he could just steal them. He looked around for a clothing store.[/b] ((Open, let's try this again.))