[Downcast? Hrm. He tilts his head slightly, before resting both elbows on the table and leaning forward, resting his chin on meshed fingers.]

Second hand memories aren't any less, I'll have you know. For example...

He adjusts himself to roll his cheek onto one hand, his now spare one tapping a rather weighty looking book at the table with his gloved fingertips. It's quite an unusual looking volume. Bits of papers are sticking out of it almost at every single page -- and it's battered. The silver bindings are scuffed, the black leather cover worn. Atop it, in silver, is the letter D.]

This is all I have for my memories. And most assuredly, they're extremely secondhand.

[Beggars and choosers and all that. But... they've certainly saved him. More than a few times.]

Start with whatever you are comfortable with, if you don't mind.