[ The video clicks on and you're treated to a puff of smoke, obscuring Erik's face for just a second. When it dissipates, you can tell that - well scruffy is probably the nicest way to put it it. He has some stubble on his chin that can't quite decide if it wants to be a beard yet or not. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his lip was split recently.

The cigarette hangs in his mouth, and he eyes the camera with a bored expression before he let's out another puff of smoke and lifts the cigarette. He has a very faint Irish accent, if you're listening close. ]

Looks like it's speech day, and here I am without one prepared. Y'ever have that dream about showin' up to school bare as the day you was born? Bit like that, I suppose.

But all right. Since we ain't got much else to entertain us, how about a story? Me mam and father and me, we all lived in this town called Limerick, see? Now I was just a boy then, didn't know shit about shit. [ He waves a hand, as if to apologize for his language, but he definitely does not care. ] They sold all sorts of things back then, tchotchkes, we called 'em. Business was good, but never great, you know how it is. I used to sweep the floors, even though the damn broom was taller'n me. Father always laughed t'see it.

Then some piece of shit preacher man got it in his head that we ain't good and godly enough for his town. Musta been pissed we didn't spend Sundays in his church, huh? [ He chuckles, takes another puff off his cigarette. ] Me mam didn't want me helping out after the store got sacked. Scared for me, y'see? But I wasn't scared. [ Still holding the cigarette, he lifts his chin, and trails his finger along a faint scar across the left side of his jaw. ] When you get pushed, you do some pushin' back.

Parents, though, they wasn't the pushin' type. So they packed up and headed out to New York. Soon as I was big enough, I packed up myself, and headed out here, to good old Redemption. Like the name. Good place for fresh starts.

[ He spreads his arms expansively, a smirk pulling at his lips as he inhales, and let's out a quick jet of smoke. ] And here I am, livin' the God damn dream, ain't I? Right here in Mostly-Free-Redemption.

[ The cigarette's down to the butt now, and he stubbs it out. ] Anyone selling cigarette's cheap?


(OOC: BREACH HISTORY: lol this post. :c He seems to be a loyal and ambitious goon working for Prefect, but in actuality he's a fed deep undercover, trying to expose Prefect. He's been under for a couple years now, and it's started eating at him. He walks a very fine line between pretending to be one of them and actually being one of them. He drinks and smokes a lot because it's the best compensation. This is Departed in the 20s. Oh also will be tagging with eachpassingday!)