3 [@dodger//video]

[smokedout]

Ugh, my head...

[Dodger seems like he just woke up... and like he woke up pretty roughly at that. He looks the same as normal, if a little more relaxed and sleepy. Although, those who haven't seen him lately will now be able to see that he's wearing what looks like a shock collar with a green light glowing on the buckle. A power suppressor. Also, the lights are on in his room for once, so the observant might be able to catch some less blurry shots of the somewhat invasive amounts of information kept on several people around the city, which are plastered all over his walls along with identifying pictures of them. Something which he hasn't taken the time to read through, since he doesn't remember any of it.]

I feel like I got hit by a train... shit. Hey- there's notes all over the desk here, so I know this is my place, but- fuck, I don't remember a single fuckin' thing about- here. Someone wanna tell me what's going on?

[He doesn't look any different, his scars are still there and so is his scruffy beard. But this doesn't seem... quite like Dodger. His tone is less condescending and sullen, more just... sleepy, with a morning grumpy sort of vibe. Like he'll pop back up and be a cheerful, relaxed person once he gets some coffee. And speaking of indulgent drinks...]

....Fuck, Janet's gonna kill me if she sees all the bottles in here...

[ooc: Dodger has forgotten everything past his 20th birthday, including all of his CR in Riverview. Enjoy letting your muses explain their version of events to him... or just fuck with him. He doesn't know any better.]

Comments

[aeturnus]

Last I heard, you work as a mechanic.

[ There's a quiet hum at that. ]

Want me to hit some of the lights?

[smokedout]

[He nods and gets up to dim the lights, leaving just enough to work by. That definitely helps, but he still rummages in the fridge for a beer to nurse while he goes back to his seat. Hair from the dog and all.]

Checks out, that's something I could do pretty well... I worked on a fishing boat back home. This, uh... this old man, Bill Gordon, gave me a job when I moved into New York. I was seventeen, obvious mutant, couldn't land an interview with these damn scars on my face... so he just gave it to me on the spot, figured I needed it and I was either gonna quit or make it worth his while.

[He hesitates.]

You can stop me if I'm rambling, I know none of this fucking matters.

[aeturnus]

No, keep going.

[ Even if he's working, Cain spares a glance and a smile up for Dodger. ]

It helps me keep the rhythm while I'm cooking if there's someone to talk to. Or listen to. So do you actually like fish after that experience, or is it hard to be around nowadays?

[smokedout]

[He ends up with some hint of a smile on his face... it's nice to not feel like he's being pried into, but just encouraged to keep the conversation going. It's nice.. relaxing. He can see why he's friends with this man.]

Fuck, I never cared one way or the other... I'll eat anything someone puts in front of me. I've even out of the garbage... more times than I wanna admit. [He shrugs.] If anything, I kinda like the smell. Smells like... accomplishment. Like the smell of going out and making something of myself, not just- being under someone's boot, y'know? I spent six fucking years as someone's dog, so... working there meant being free.

[A fact that he's nowhere near as comfortable with as he makes it sound... he still lives fully at the behest of Bill Gordon, and when he comes home at night he remains dazed and confused without a guiding force. But at this age, Dodger really thought if he pretended he was okay with things for long enough he would start feeling the way people are supposed to.]