ArchivedLogs:Got a Ring to It

Got a Ring to It
New boy in town...
Dramatis Personae Jason, Kay, Alan
In Absentia	2014-07-06 '
Location <NYC> Dogtown - Midtown East
A small nook of a joint in Midtown, Dogtown is decorated with little thought to class or style. Cheerful, with black and white tiled flooring, bright red tables, bright yellow walls, menus plastered on peeling sheets over the counter, the walls are papered in an assortment of photographs -- smiling patrons who hold records for successfully eating six or more hot dogs in one one-hour sitting. The menu here is simple and solid -- hot dogs both beef or vegan with a huge array of toppings, fries, slaw, chili. It's not haute cuisine but the dogs are good enough to draw large crowds, especially late at night. The rainstorms and fireworks of the Independence Day weekend at an end (save a few POPS! and BANGS! for those enthusiastic citizens that didn't get the god damn memo), New York City is cruising back into the summer's standard unspeakable humid heat, with all the trappings of a city built far far before the accommodation of central air conditioning was part of architectural design. A window AC whines and clunks desperately in the Dogtown eatery, breathing scant cool air into those brave enough to venture out into the sun. There's a lot of SKIN exposed to compensate; young men in wife beaters, girls hanging out with them in bikini tops. The door opens with a little eager 'ding!' to admit two more people! Well, one and a half; Kay, 6+ in height and lean as cablewire, is wearing skinny jeans, blank calf boots, a sort of sleeveless black compression tank under a battered denim vest with a small black and white patch on the front breast pocket that says only MMMC and beneath it Roadcaptain, bare arms swarming with what looks like a single red dragon twining up one arm and down the other. A NYC baseball cap pulled down over lank hair and reflective sunglasses mean his HUGE toothy grin and the single gold tooth glinting in the midsts of it is prominent and vulpin - he has a hand resting on TOP of his present company's head. Company being a towheaded young boy of about seven with a crew cut and a scull and crossbones drawn on one bicep with a permanent marker. Kay is kind of LEANING on the kid to help him walk, as one of his legs is bound up in a cast which he's hop-skip-jumping along with without much visible difficulty. "What'chu /want/," Kay's asking the kid, scratchy-tenor sharp. Jason Sanders has been released, so back into the normal world of people-- oh-- and mutants. The young was happy to be back on the streets again and though it may be pretty warm out, he was making due with it. The young man carries himself in a military form, it was not an easy thing to beat out of yourself and given he was right now in reserve status, he could be called on at any time. Though given what he signed up for, they probably wont any time soon. As he walked into the Doghouse, he was standing around six foot three. He had on a pair of jeans, military style boots, and a sleeveless shirt. His dirty blonde hair was military cut and he had a pair of aviator style blue tinted shades over his amber brown eyes. Which as he realized he followed in not only a gentleman in who was ahead of him, but also perhaps-- his son? He takes notice of the cast on the poor kid and then at the man he was with. He clears his throat gently, he has an accent to his voice as he speaks. Light southern draw, Texas really. Though not as heavy as Western movies love to play it up; also not as slow either "If you like, sir, you can go ahead and let the kid take a seat. I can hold up the line here for you and you can go ahead and order ahead of me." He glances back over his shoulder, before he looks back, "Cause right now, its seems like we are the only two in line and I image standing on that cast is no fun." Kay has a way of making all movements somehow rangy-coyote loose and coiled in one, using the stabilizing hand on the boy's head to kind of drag the kid along backwards to allow him to turn towards this new arrival (the kid, all furrow-browed and on SOME sort of either pouting or play-surly mode, goes along with it like it's a natural symbiotic exchange, eyes locked on the menu). "Hah, guy. You don't gotta offer me that twice. Stopfoot here-" "I'm DOOZER now," the kid grump-grunts sternly, folding his hands on top of his head on TOP of Kay's, "I'mma eat a /chocolate/ hot dog." "Doozer here knows how I /like/ it." Fishing a twenty from a breast pocket, Kay hands it to the kid and adds to Jason, "Pull up a chair with us if you're eatin' in, yo. More the merrier, yeah?" "I am SO merry," the kid -- Doozer, apparently -- says through unnecessarily gritted milkteeth, all grunty and /competitive/. Watch out, Jason, if you don't watch your bits, the kid might just latch onto your hand to decisively LEAD you towards the counter with him. "'mon." Jason can't help but smirk at the kid. He actually to resist a bit of a chuckle. "Doozer huh?" Jason gives a firm nod of his head. "Well, I'm Jason," He then lifts up his shades to rest them on the top of his head as he looks over to Kay, "And sure. I jus' got back into town an' honestly hangin' out with some locals is something I could use." Jason orders himself a good ol' Chillidog along with some onions mixed in with the chilli. Once the two sit down and Jason gets his own dog (unless the dogs are brought to the table) , he takes himself a seat and leans back in his chair. "So, Doozer," Jason turns his attention to the kid for now, "How did you enjoy forth of July?" Kay's gotten them a GOOD seat by the window, hat turned around backwards and glasses now off and set in front of the salt and pepper shaker, shamelessly appropriating a second chair for him to prop his foot up on. Doozer in fact DOES order a hotdog with... chocolate sauce... drizzled over the top (it requires a kind of INQUIRING look from the lady behind the counter and a blase GO FOR IT gesture from the seated Kay), and a second dog upon which Doozer has insisted they include 'everything'. ("Relish" Yes. "Mustard?" Yes. "Olives?" Yes. "You're sure?" "SO many olives.") He'll probably need Jason to HELP him carry it over to the table. Where Kay kind of STARES at it for a moment, grin growing slightly more rictus manic, before DRAGGING it into his proximity with baffled acceptance. "It was /bitchin/," Doozer's little-kid voice gruff! "SO many 'splosions n shit, yeah?" He thrusts out a fist to tap with Jason like YOU know what I'm talkin' about. Picking at a few olives and dipping them in - is this GRAVY? - Kay is propping his jaw on a fist and giving Jason a pretty open eyeing-over, hazarding, "Y'a military guy?" It's possible his kind of mixed Midwestern accent could be narrowed down to the Nevada area, if one were from those parts. Jason does indeed help carry stuff and when offered the fist pump, he returns it to Doozer. He watches the kid eat a bit before he goes to actually eat his own dog, but then the question comes up from Kay, "Hm? I am, yes. Army actually. Done my four years and now on reserve status." He then takes a bit of his chillidog. He doesn't talk with his mouth full, he does have his manners after all, though he has to make a mental check to not scarf down the dog. "Though I got the training and the like, haven't actually seen any /true/ combat. So sadly no war stories to share, haha, at least none yet." Jason grins at that. "Though my grandfather did, he was part of the Aircore, before they had an airforce. World War two. Crazy stuff back then." This earns a whistle, "Fuck, man, that's /history/, right there." Kay is picking at his dog but still seems a little daunted as to how to pick the goopy mess... UP, it sort of oozing off the sides of it's little cardboard boat onto the second plate below. He finally opts to just scoop his hand beneath the mess of it and lean down to just - bury his face in for a BITE. "So you," chew, chew, hang on, SWALLOWGULP, "so you been here how long, huh? 'Cause not gonna lie, bro, you hang in this fucken city too long, you won't even have to skip the ocean to see some combat." He's going to be mowing through napkins pretty damn quickly at this rate, fishing some chili out of a NOSTRIL with one eye squinched up. "Y'can't give chocolate to dogs," Doozer informs his chocolate-covered dog grimly. That's his solid contribution, before turning on Jason and asking abruptly, "What's /your/ name?" Jason chuckles to Kay, "It is yeah, my dad wanted to join the airforce but due to some of his disabilities, he couldn't. So-- now I am the one it seems holding the old torch." He shakes his head slightly. "My uncle sadly is a pacifist when it comes to combat." He raises a brow at that in some thought to himself. "..not that there is anything wrong with it.. just the way he goes about it." Jason takes another bite of his chillidog, eating it before speaking again, "As for how long.. not to long really. Been here for maybe a week or two? Still unpacking stuff at my place. Kinda had some stuff come up, where I had to leave, but here I am again." He shakes his head a bit and then as he goes to take another bite, he looks at the kid for a moment when he asks what his name was. "Well," He places down the chillidog for a second, "My name is Jason, Jason Sanders. Nothing as cool as Doozer. That is a really sweet name and one that will indeed strike some fear into any punks that try to pick on you for sure." Jason looks out toward the window. "I mostly just got called Ace by some of my brothers in the army cause of my marksman skills." He then looks back to Doozer, "Though I think Bullseye would have been a nicer nickname." "I'll call ya Bullseye, mister," Doozer says it so intensely he might as well be making it a BLOOD PACT, leaning forward to like it's something to SHAKE on, "My stupid sister only calls me Alan 'n I /hate/ it." His stupid sister might also just not have the patience to keep track of every god damn time he decides to change his name again, "Kay says people can call 'emself whatever they godd'm wanna." "That'd be me," says Kay. Or maybe it's just K, like the LETTER, it's hard to hear spelling out loud! "Yo. Welcome t'the city then. Or welcome back? Again? Some more?" He just kinda chuff-laughs because WHO CARES, Kay is tossing out an /exceptionally/ casual hand that will more /clap/ palms together than merely clasp them, adopting a BIT of Jason's accent to really put a flare into his next puffed up words, "/Bullseye/ Sanders." Jason grins and shakes the kid's hand greets Kay's own however he likes. "Haha, Well, at least it has a good ring to it." He smirk and looks over to Doozer, "And Kay does have a point, you're your own person after all. Not someone else." He then glances over to Kay, "Also I may not be on the up and up, but you said if you stuck around here long enough, I may see something happen. Just what is going around town anyways?" He does then take a bit of his chillidog as he lets Kay explain the troubles of New York; Or not.