Cordon, Dominic

DOMINIC CORDON

[attr="class","perhead"] THE HERMIT

[attr="class","egoistic"]PERSONALITY

[attr="class","perbox"] Dominic is a man who knows his limits and his capabilities. He's been tempered by a lot of experience stuffed into a small amount of time. He's got patience, just enough patience to get through most typical days without flying off the handle. He's pretty blue-collar, a common man save for his exceptional boxing skill. He knows the plight of the common man and respects anyone trying to make it through life, trying to just survive and even more so who strive for an honest living. He's the kind of guy to help out if he knows you and you're way in over your head, but god damn if you ask him for some bullshit he knows you can do yourself you're gonna hear about it.[break][break]
His boxing career is a job. A job with tremendous benefits. A job where he doesn't NEED the font of patience near as much. The trophies are a little bonus, but the two big reasons go in this order: it lets him beat the shit out of people, and it is a good chunk of change. See, Dominic? He does love to box, but not cause it's a challenge. He likes making people hurt. People who think they're good enough to step into the ring can be somewhat respected, and therefore deserve all his effort. All that joyful, bonebreaking effort. Doesn't matter if he's built like a twig who's never fought, or if he's a she, of if he's a "she" or whatever the fuck freakshow he's found in New York. The only time he goes actively seeking a fight is when he's got to climb the pro ladder; otherwise, someone does something that leads the two getting heated and once they wanna fight, it's on. He's not going to get into a shoving match. There aren't warnings or someone holding Dominic back. He's gonna throw a punch and someone is gonna get hit.[break][break]
On the daily, though? Guess he isn't much for small talk; white noise annoys the shit out of him. He's not one to do things because he can; it's usually what he deems need to be done. He's real no nonsense and not much to crack a joke, but he appreciates a good laugh. One thing he doesn't appreciate is lies. He can't stand people bold facedly telling themselves "everything is gonna be okay" or "I'm gonna do something that matters, i'm gonna change the world" or "No, i'm not cheating on Mom". It's important to not fight yourself with constant lies; that's a fight that never ends with you winning. You gotta throw in the towel and accept. [break][break]
'Cept Dominic. He ain't scared. Not of anyone. Not of himself. Nothing. Never.

[attr="class","egoistic"]BIOGRAPHY

[attr="class","perbox"]Destin was a fucking nightmare in the summertime. Plenty of deep-woods hicks clogged the roads, the restaurants, the sidewalks. Fat assed bald guys with zinc slathered on their nose and uppity cheerleader types with just enough covering to make it legal. Talking about bullshit from the difference between Cola Rola and Tepsid to which beach-shack had the best fries (which was a fucking stupid argument, every local knew Moe's was the king). Always arguing. Always yelling. Always too damn loud. And just his luck, his mp3 was dead. Broken on the last time he had to walk home after summer school. This two mile walk home was almost enough for him to give a shit enough about school, besides Mom's nagging.[break][break]
He kicked himself for that one. He shouldn't think about Moms that way; he knew she was trying to do right by him. Trying to get him in a better spot than where he was now. So he wouldn't have to be stuck filing papers for 12 hours a day or breaking his back clogging traffic with summer construction. His hands clenched up in his pockets when he glanced up towards the traffic light to see if he'd be waiting. That laser gaze was caught by a sandy blonde mop top with a bandage right above the left eyebrow.[break][break]
You've got to be fucking me.[break][break]
Bobby Assface Timmons. That twerp that broke his mp3. They'd butt heads since 5th grade and 3 years later, things hadn't changed.[break][break]
"You gonna get me a new mp3?"[break][break]
"You gonna fix my sunglasses?"[break][break]
"You gonna give me back my keychain?"[break][break]
"You gonna apologize for hittin' my sister?"[break][break]
"Your sister's a cunt!"[break][break]
This was the line that started it every time. Dominic was always on beat with it and each incident just extended the list of back and forth before the point. They both knew it was gonna come up, Dominic loved saying it 'cause she really WAS a cunt. She ate her whole lunch and then blamed him for it, THEN tried to shake him down to spend his damn lunch money on her. Nah, the bitch obviously didn't know who she was dealing with. That was disrespectful and dirty, and Dad told him to beat the shit out of anyone who dare disrespect him or his family. Granted, he only hit her the once before she cried and ran, and he wasn't one to not take a surrender.[break][break]
And they scrapped. They both stayed standing for as long as they could and even though Timmons always brought his friends along, that was just to gloat if he won (which did happen, on occasion). They busted each others' balls all the time, but Timmons always, ALWAYS fought one on one. Maybe cause their dads knew each other, they were raised similar. This scene played out more than once and when someone tried to break it up:[break][break]
"NOT YOUR FUCKIN' BUSINESS!"[break][break]
"NOT YOUR FUCKIN' BUSINESS!"[break][break]
In high school though, in a bigger pond, the boys met a more brutal pack mentality. D'shawn had introduced them to the concept of "jumping" somebody, or well, introduced Dominic to it. Bobby was not by far the only person he fought and D'shawn didn't like the shiner Dom gave his little brother. 5 vs 1 and for the first two minutes it was not pretty. They moved way too fast and erratic. But then he heard Bobby. Then he SAW Bobby, in a form like a Flying Press into the gang. Behind him were those same stooges that cheered on the Timmons vs Cordon free per view for all of middle school. Ricardo, James, and Joseff. After that, they learned to keep together but they all learned to handle things their own; they were too good to get on D'shawn's level. But they knew D'shawn came from a family of rabbits and had plenty of fodder to throw at them. That's when Bobby suggested:[break][break]
"Yknow, there's a place on Cape Paradise Circle that teaches boxing. It's a lot cheaper than MMA classes, I checked, we could do this, yeah?"[break][break]
That was when Dominic started doing well in school. Bad grades equaled no classes. He got that thrill of being able to see the punches coming, dodging, taking the hit and feeling nothing after a while, how to throw a good punch. Coach Rodriguez was an old pro and he ran those boys up and down doing roadwork and endurance training. They would very rarely practice separately until they finally got into styles of their own. Bobby, Ricardo, and Dominic were all infighters with their own touches, Dominic's being his combinations which required very little spacing and his cross upper. Dominic came home every day with welts and a big stupid smile on his face. Mom always asked how it went, he always answered "Perfect." He saw Dad every once in a while, usually in the middle of the week when he didn't pull doubles. Weekends were very much void of Dad.[break][break]
Then, before graduation, there was an amateur boxing tournament. The boys finally weighed in. Dominic was in Middleweight. D'Shawn, also in Middleweight, from a different gym. Needless to say, Dominic took every punch and kept on going over that weekend, forced his way in and laid in to every opponent until gave. Amateur boxing was much more a point determined system and favored outboxing and fundamentals just to rack up as much points as possible to go to decision. Dominic would not win by decision and would later go on to never take a decision in his pro career. He was going for knock outs and downs. Not even Joseff was spared that treatment. He loved it. The white noise and cheering formed faces in his mind. The fat fuck. The hicks. Bobby's sister. They gave every punch weight. Every punch said "I want some quiet". And when he was up against someone who made him think, who made him wary, he went deaf. He loved that feeling. When blood pumped so fast in his ear that that was all he heard, he loved it. Unfortunately, the only near loss he took in the tournament was in the finals of the tournament, against D'shawn. D'shawn also took no prisoners, or decisions. But he wasn't a better boxer, a better fighter. Dominic just had no patience. He didn't want to block. He didn't want to get fancy. He wanted to pay him back with the force of 5 on 1. And every upper went right to that yellow belly of his. He loved those impacts more than he loved his deafness. The sheer thrill of exacting retribution. Of beating the absolute shit out of someone who deserved it.[break][break]
He got to do it again that same day, at home, when he walked in on his father deep in this woman built like a fucking tank. He'd seen her at his dad's work a couple times. She worked the dozer. "I have work that weekend, I'm so sorry Son, your mom can videotape if for when I get home in the mornings." No amount of book thumping could've made Dominic less of an idiot. He didn't even let him get dressed as he was clamoring to explain. He didn't let him surrender. He couldn't, he was too busy screaming. He lost three teeth that day, and fractured the same amount of ribs. Dad told him to beat the shit out of anyone who dare disrespect him or his family. And the utter look of Dad's face of his boy fulfilling that order stayed with Dominic for a long....long, long time.[break][break]
He graduated and went to college. However, school amateur boxing was a lot more clean and wouldn't let him brutalize his opponents absolutely. That's when he got a line from Bobby. He'd moved to New York. The Pro Registration was in a week.[break][break]
6 years later and he's ready for that Northeast region belt.[break][break]

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]Don't understimate your opponent, and once he's down, it's over.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS YOUR IDEA OF PERFECT HAPPINESS?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]I got enough cash to live comfortable. And quietly. And a nice woman, but that's pushing it.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]I guess letting the white noise these fucking idiots spout non stop get to me and finally drive me nuts.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST HATE IN YOURSELF?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]I can still hear.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST HATE IN OTHERS?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]They aren't mute.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER THE MOST OVERRATED VIRTUE?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]The want to do right. Half the time they ain't doin' right, they just pretend, like fucking kids on Halloween and everyone cheers for these little fucks just cause they think they know what Justice is.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] ON WHAT OCCASION DO YOU LIE?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]I don't lie. I ain't afraid to hurt someone's feelings, or be a dick. Nine times out of ten they could use a reality check.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER YOUR GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]I learned to throw a good punch.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS YOUR MOST TREASURED POSSESSION?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]My Big Apple Pro Trophy. It was my first ever true prize.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS THE LOWEST DEPTH OF MISERY?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]Getting caught in someone else's rhythm, unable to control yourself or your punches. "No agency" as Pops would put it.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT DO YOU MOST VALUE IN YOUR FRIENDS?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]They aren't pretenders. They don't lie to me. They don't lie to themselves.

[attr="class","egosurvey"] WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST REGRET?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]Probably wasting a year doing amateur boxing and college. Fuck that noise. I did one prize fight and paid that shit off. Why delay doing what I love and pays well?

[attr="class","egosurvey"] HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIE?

[attr="class","egoanswers"]I'm gonna die when I can't throw a punch anymore. I'll do it myself.

Jones . PDT . uncleholly#6048

Upon submitting this Form, I hereby chooseth this fate of mine own free will — I have agreed to abide by all terms and regulations demonstrated by all of ALTER EGO™'s attendant staff, and will bear full responsibility for mine own actions.