No, I didn't mean that, it's just...thanks. [Dixon isn't in any sort of mood to resist Robbie's companionship. If anything, the generous gesture awakens some kind of desperation in Dixon to continue it. He hasn't wanted to be on the outs with the rest of the group; it's just been an unfortunate reality, fueled by his own aggression and impulsive loudmouthing.
Just like that, Robbie's earned a swell of earnest goodwill.
The burns cover Dixon's left hand, half his face and a good portion of his neck, so his first motion is to gingerly take one of the clean fabrics and clean his burned palm. It's taken a beating with the attack with the Wheelers, and most of the barely-healed tissue has been ripped away to an open wound. It's painful enough to touch that Dixon's attempts to wipe pebbles and dirt out of it are fairly inept; he isn't able to force his mind to override his body's instinctive repulsion to pain.]
You know, my momma says I was pretty handsome before this. [It's a pitiful attempt at cracking wise. He gives Robbie a look, like he's seeing him for the first time, undistracted by inebriation or monsters or anything like that. Tall, lean, looking like a college football type, probably as wholesome as city Yankees get (at least, that's what Dixon assumes from the accent).] You got a name? I didn't catch it back at the...you know, the thing.
[i.e. that whole thing where he nearly got brained by a space-rock that was a teenager, somehow. He's almost stubbornly refusing to try wrapping his head around that one.]
no subject
Just like that, Robbie's earned a swell of earnest goodwill.
The burns cover Dixon's left hand, half his face and a good portion of his neck, so his first motion is to gingerly take one of the clean fabrics and clean his burned palm. It's taken a beating with the attack with the Wheelers, and most of the barely-healed tissue has been ripped away to an open wound. It's painful enough to touch that Dixon's attempts to wipe pebbles and dirt out of it are fairly inept; he isn't able to force his mind to override his body's instinctive repulsion to pain.]
You know, my momma says I was pretty handsome before this. [It's a pitiful attempt at cracking wise. He gives Robbie a look, like he's seeing him for the first time, undistracted by inebriation or monsters or anything like that. Tall, lean, looking like a college football type, probably as wholesome as city Yankees get (at least, that's what Dixon assumes from the accent).] You got a name? I didn't catch it back at the...you know, the thing.
[i.e. that whole thing where he nearly got brained by a space-rock that was a teenager, somehow. He's almost stubbornly refusing to try wrapping his head around that one.]