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| - Whilst Hinge's own personal history, even his original and real name, remain a mystery to all, even Hinge himself, his origins were that of a wandering amnesiac; found naked and alone, wandering the suburbs on the outskirts of the town, babbling incoherently, discovered by a group of wandering vagabonds. After being brought back to town on the back of a Brahmin by said vagabonds, Hinge became lucid enough to begin requesting clothing and information on how and why he was out there, in an oddly detached tone, referring to those he met in the first few hours as "being". With no information to give and only some wasteland rags to hand over freely, Hinge left disappointed but quite keen to find his own way, curious as to both how and why he was out in the ruins. Hinge's first few days in town
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| abstract
| - Whilst Hinge's own personal history, even his original and real name, remain a mystery to all, even Hinge himself, his origins were that of a wandering amnesiac; found naked and alone, wandering the suburbs on the outskirts of the town, babbling incoherently, discovered by a group of wandering vagabonds. After being brought back to town on the back of a Brahmin by said vagabonds, Hinge became lucid enough to begin requesting clothing and information on how and why he was out there, in an oddly detached tone, referring to those he met in the first few hours as "being". With no information to give and only some wasteland rags to hand over freely, Hinge left disappointed but quite keen to find his own way, curious as to both how and why he was out in the ruins. Hinge's first few days in town were spent asking questions, going full days without food and water with seemingly not a care in the world, besides the odd nervous tick and grating, worried tone in his voice. Hinge seemed far more interested in asking questions than seeking shelter, and apparently displayed a strangely high tolerance for pain; he seemed completely uninterested in his own good health and far more interested in finding out about the "fellow beings" around him. Seeing some potential in him, he was taken in by Marian Lane and given a job at her hotel, putting him to use as a cleaner and later, amazed by his apparent skills with the hotel's aging electronics, as a mechanic. Within a matter of weeks, Hinge had replaced his rags for a far snappier business suit, his fists for a 10mm N99 Pistol and his awkward, worried teenage manner for that of a debonair, charismatic and chauvinistic individual, cultivated from watching some of the more "classy" clientele in Lane's establishment. His time hadn't just been spent scavenging better attire; he had also learned of his strangely innate knowledge of machinery. Able to dismantle and rebuild a terminal in under five minutes, to the amazement of those who watched, Hinge found that what he lacked in personality could be made up for by bluff and what he lacked in combat skills could be made up for by his skill with engineering and mechanical maintenance. Hinge soon found himself working upon old computers and radios within a year of his rather shocking arrival, his false persona grating upon those he worked for and with, and had soon distinguished himself as a loudmouth who could, occasionally, espouse the right views for those in power in both Swallow Hills and surrounding areas. Herman Long, the mayor of Swallow Hills essentially since the town's 'founding' in 2100, eventually found Hinge brought to his attention. Seeking someone who could not only maintain but host the newly repaired radio systems. Seen as Hinge had the tendency to spout a good variety of opinions, which would preclude the possibility of being called a shill for the local government, and he could maintain the computers, radio equipment and terminals needed to maintain a constant broadcast. Long approached Hinge and happily offered Hinge the position; Hinge, growing tired of working as a mere engineer, happily accepted the job, leaving "auntie Lane" for a better job, though he certainly felt the need to apologise profusely whenever Lane was nearby. Within a few weeks, Swallow Hills Radio was up and running; Hinge, as the sole DJ and proprietor, happily ran the station, occasionally jumping through the required proverbial hoops put up by the town's elite; Seymour Hendrickson being one of those elite who seemingly constantly had requests on his ideological blitz, though Hinge was apparently frightened by the die-hard Hendrickson. It was during his time as DJ that many in the town found out about his rather quirky, or disturbing depending on one's point of view, obsession; repairing automobiles. For this, Hinge mostly just gathered the wreckage of cars and attempted to piece the various components together, usually creating rather awkward combinations from various Chryslus makes, following old manuals scrounged from Swallow Hills' various garages and workshops. The detail Hinge would comfortably go into about the various requirements and components of the various vehicle models often worried rather a lot of people, who viewed his obsession as little more than a sexual fetish, akin to the fetish for robots that, around this time, had become quite popular thanks to the spread of the New California Republic's influence. As the town DJ, Hinge holds quite a powerful position in terms of influence; hence his own arrogant self-importance. His own long, rambling discussions on air, intersected by the odd bout of his own choice of music. Hinge actually developed and develops his own brand of music; an odd form of electronic beeps and blips, mixed with loud metal drumming. Despite Hinge's insistence that this music was inspirational and, by his own modest claim, the next 'big thing', most others simply considered and consider it to be loud noise, nowhere near the same inspirational tones of long dead Jazz and Swing singers. Undeterred, Hinge continues both to broadcast on the radio his own music and create his own music, murmuring about "prime music" when challenged on his belief that this new music was, in his own rather confusing words, "cybertronically inspirational", "deceptively enchanting" and, above all, "auto-robotically rapturous". And now; the weather...
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