3 [@dodger//video]

[smokedout]

Ugh, my head...

[Dodger seems like he just woke up... and like he woke up pretty roughly at that. He looks the same as normal, if a little more relaxed and sleepy. Although, those who haven't seen him lately will now be able to see that he's wearing what looks like a shock collar with a green light glowing on the buckle. A power suppressor. Also, the lights are on in his room for once, so the observant might be able to catch some less blurry shots of the somewhat invasive amounts of information kept on several people around the city, which are plastered all over his walls along with identifying pictures of them. Something which he hasn't taken the time to read through, since he doesn't remember any of it.]

I feel like I got hit by a train... shit. Hey- there's notes all over the desk here, so I know this is my place, but- fuck, I don't remember a single fuckin' thing about- here. Someone wanna tell me what's going on?

[He doesn't look any different, his scars are still there and so is his scruffy beard. But this doesn't seem... quite like Dodger. His tone is less condescending and sullen, more just... sleepy, with a morning grumpy sort of vibe. Like he'll pop back up and be a cheerful, relaxed person once he gets some coffee. And speaking of indulgent drinks...]

....Fuck, Janet's gonna kill me if she sees all the bottles in here...

[ooc: Dodger has forgotten everything past his 20th birthday, including all of his CR in Riverview. Enjoy letting your muses explain their version of events to him... or just fuck with him. He doesn't know any better.]

Comments

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar shrugs broadly.]

I think you're always drunk.

[Dodger would have made a good Viking in that regard. But it did seem to make him awful mean. Maybe this version that was memoryless would be different.]

[smokedout]

[He shakes his head.]

Sorry, that doesn't check out - my girl would kill me if I was out drinking more than once a week.

[Not to say it wouldn't happen - just that Janet hates it and Dodger is trying very hard to be a good man for her.He's cut back a lot on his bad habits since he was sixteen, really.]

[ragnarsson]

Don't believe me? Either look at your floor or go find the nearest and grimiest bar.

[That surprises him, to know that Dodger was once less of a drunken wretch than the pathetic sadist Ivar had come to know. Just what kind of mystical hold did this woman have upon him?]

[smokedout]

[He glances at the floor again. He'd figured this was just a crazy bender, but... yeah, there's at least twenty bottles of vodka here, and he's still alive, so it had to be drawn out.

Which means that he's definitely been here for a while, without Janet. And the pain of that realization is clear as day on his face.]

...What the hell have I been doing here?

[ragnarsson]

You don't want to know.

[That's about the first completely true thing that Ivar has told him. He's not going to be the one to break to him how badly he's screwed up his life.]

The good thing is you've got nowhere to go but up.

[smokedout]

Fuck...

[A hand moves to rub his face, and then slips down to.. the collar on his neck. He pauses for a moment before glancing down at it.]

...Is this a power suppressor?

[They're pretty common in his world... but as far as he can remember he's never worn one before. He's always been one step ahead of the law, even back when he actually did crap like that. But... apparently, from the state of his room... well, it looks like he actually fell back into his old habits. And that's- well, that means nothing good.]

[ragnarsson]

I think so. You haven't been behaving yourself. You should be thankful you're not sitting in a cell right now. Or worse.

[If it was up to Ivar, he'd be tied up somewhere, and having little pieces cut off him in a very slow and most painful manner. The only thing keeping Dodger alive right now was the fact he'd holed up in his room like a move and generally had someone else with him when he went outside.]

[smokedout]

[He offers a shrug.]

They call me "Dodger" for a reason. I've never been caught my the cops - but... I guess I smudged my record, here. [He snaps his fingers, and instead of lighting his fingers aflame he just gets a beep, a red light on the buckle of the collar and a hard shock that makes him flinch. He lets out a huff.] I bet I know some people that would get a kick outta this.

[ragnarsson]

I'm sure there are. You haven't been making a lot of friends. [Ivar turns his head so Dodger can't see him smirk. There is something immensely satisfying about watching the mutant get shocked. He's not going to be forgetting the burns Dodger left him with for a very long time.]

And yet somehow there's still some people who tolerate you. Statistically, I suppose someone was bound to.

[smokedout]

For every asshole on the planet there's someone that gets them.

[He groans quietly, tipping his head back before speaking again.]

....You know what happened to my door, Ivar?

[Because it's still broken, and charred. And so are a few parts of the wall around there.]

[ragnarsson]

Someone who was mad at you tried to burn it down.

[There's nothing on his face or about his tone that would indicate that someone just so happened to be him. Power suppressor or no, he's not tangling with Dodger again until he's good and ready.]

[smokedout]

Fire's a pretty stupid move against me... usually. [He huffs.] Was that before or after the power suppressor?

[It's just now occurring to him how hard it will be to keep his cigarette habit satiated... he glances at the lighter on his desk and groans involuntarily.]

[ragnarsson]

Worked well enough to smoke you out, or so I heard. [It still didn't sound at all like Ivar had anything to do with it. Just a guy listening to the gossip that always swirled around the building.]

It was before. That's what led to you getting that thing on your neck. [It was so very fitting, given all the times Ivar had compared him to a dog, and now he was wearing a collar like one.]