6 [@dodger//video]

[smokedout]

[Well... this is something new. The broadcast seems to be taking place in first person, in a seedy bar somewhere in the Bronx. Whoever's perspective it is, they're sitting in the corner booth, staring down blankly at a half-empty bottle of Fireball, a few syringes, a bottle of amber liquid, and a few pills of dubious origin. One hand, bandaged and bearing a hospital band reading "John Doe", reaches for the bottle... but it's clear from the movement and the shakiness of the "camera" that he's much too far gone to need any more booze.]

Well, ain't this a sad sight.

[The man glances up, catching sight of a tall, muscular man in a pinstriped suit. His jet-black hair is swept into a vintage wave, his eyes are a piercing and electric shade of blue, and combined with the way he seems to radiate power, he almost seems detached from the grungy world around him. The man has a cigarette in his mouth, which he crushes into the table as he sits across from 'John Doe', and flashes him a calm, almost condescending smirk. They share some uncomfortable silence for a long while, before this new man speaks.]

You must be the man they call Dodger.

[Dodger closes his eyes briefly, before lifting his head a bit and trying to speak.]

Whoth.. .dkfu.... ckarey....

[Well, speech clearly isn't happening, so he just nods slowly. The attempt makes the man suppress a laugh, low and dark and brimming with confidence.]

Well the city really is going to shit, if this is what counts for 'best man to look for'... [The man croons, slipping a hand over to pick up the bottle and look it over.] Jesus, you drinking this straight? ...Hah. Mutants are full o' fuckin' surprises.

[He turns the bottle over in his hand before placing it down. The whole time Dodger is vaguely motioning as if he'd like to take it back, but... with the man moving so quickly (slow at that might be to a sober individual) he has no chance of catching it.]

Doesn't matter, anyway. Listen, kid, you're gonna wanna sober up for this - I got a job for you. And from the looks of it, you could use the money.

[Dodger glances down at the objects in front of him, before looking back at the man. A moment of hesitation and he clears his throat awkwardly.]

What's... the jo... b...?

[This sends a crackle of amusement through the man's features, and he laughs softly before leaning forward.]

A long-term contract, more like. You've seen how this place is falling apart, haven't you? All these damn mutant kids trying to take over the city, thinking they're revolutionaries. Government trying to beat them out like they got a damn clue how to fight something like Dana Tempest... About time someone who really knew the place started to pick up the pieces. Get rid of the vermin for good - not punishing them, or fixing them, just bringing some good poison into the rat's nests, understand?

[While he speaks, Dodger seems to be fixated on just... staring at him. Unblinking, unabashed. But he's finding his voice, and he interrupts before the man can get any more of his pitch out.]

What d'you wa....nt me to... t'do.

[The man is amused once again, and takes the bottle as he stands up, slipping a paper with an address over in its place.]

Lose the junk, and be inside that building by three tomorrow.

[Dodger glances down at the paper, then at his drugs, and stumbles as he tries to get up and follow him. It's clear almost instantly that he won't be able to handle the walk in his current state.]

Who the fuck are you?

[The man pauses, and glances back at him before smiling and turning to leave.]

I'm the only friend you're gonna need.

Comments

[smokedout]

I'm not. [He lies, and then hesitates.] But if you saw one of your parents on your phone, even you'd be feeling something, right?

[After all, Augustine's that sort of bond. He was never a father figure, but Dodger never liked having replacement parents. Augustine was just that strong of a bond, something that Dodger always wants to return to for comfort.]

Dogs are useless without a master. Half of them die out on the street trying to take care of themselves. That's just how the world is.

[ragnarsson]

Why ask a question that you already know the answer to?

[That's Ivar's way of avoiding having to actually answer and reveal he has feelings. He misses his parents so much and this has given him the rare opportunity to actually see them again the exact way they were in life.]

Oh, then should I be waiting for you to drop dead any day now?

[He can't help the sarcasm, it's better than the alternative of being forced to be serious about the topic at hand.]

[smokedout]

It's called a rhetorical question. One that doesn't need an answer, because it already proved a point.

[Look at that, English lessons from an English man. Ragnar would be proud.]

I'll find someone to feed me sooner or later. I'm cute.

[ragnarsson]

I know what a rhetorical question is, you moron.

[Someone sounds a touch huffy. While Ivar has heard every insult in the world regarding his nature physically, he still bristles when someone insult his intelligence. That's the one great strength he has left to himself.

Ivar snorts at Dodger's words. He highly doubts that.]

Not that cute.

[smokedout]

Says the man that crawled on all fours to kiss me.

[And he's casually lighting a cigarette while that burn sets in. Even if the memory still makes him shudder.]

Wonder what your parents would say about you going after strange foreign men.

[ragnarsson]

What's the matter? Want a repeat performance?

[Ivar's anger doesn't rise. He knows who had been control in that situation and it sure hadn't been Dodger. Though he could have done without the shiny burn scars afterwards.]

My mother would say don't go near him till you're sure you know where he's been. Unfortunately for you, I don't have that much time to check every trash can in the city.

[smokedout]

[He's silent for a few moments; anyone else would get flirtatious teasing and hell, it isn't like Ivar is outside of the scope of Dodger's interest. But the viking's touch still feels toxic after that time they shared a bed.]

Sounds like you've got a pretty good idea where I've been already. [He's quiet for another few moments.] Surprised your mom wouldn't care about you being a fairy. But I guess the bar's low.

[ragnarsson]

It's either that or check the dog pound. [As far as Dodger went, Ivar had no real interest in the man, save for possibly being in control of him again. Bleeding into Ivar's sexual thoughts were always thoughts of violence and cutting him up into little pieces sounded like a fine idea.]

Vikings have more important things to concern themselves with than who's bedding whom.

[As with all aspects of their culture, as long as one was the dominant one in the relationship, they turned a blind eye towards gay trysts.]

[smokedout]

Vikings and gangsters both, then. Doesn't stop some of them.

[Still, interesting to know. And interesting to know that Ivar's comfortable with himself - Dodger's a little jealous of that.]

So, what are you going to do with all this new information? Use it against me, or just turn a blind eye and hope I die?

[ragnarsson]

[That was the advantage of growing up in a culture that practiced loose bisexuality at all times and encouraged threesomes for a healthy marriage. For all that people liked to call them barbarians, Vikings could be surprisingly progressive.]

I don't know yet. I must think on it first.

[As Ivar did with everything in his life. It was just the way he worked.#]

[smokedout]

Ain't that just like you...

[As much as Dodger works in ambiguity himself, he hates it coming from others. He'd rather know what Ivar was up to so he could prepare - and he was counting on Ivar being confident enough to lay it out.]

Just keep this in mind - you've been dealing with me without a master. If I manage to get one, you'll be in very serious danger.

[ragnarsson]

When that day comes, I'll give the matter serious thought.

[No sarcasm there. The right someone winding Dodger up and pointing him in a direction could make him into a very dangerous tool indeed. Such a shame they didn't get along. Ivar had found being in charge of people appealed to him.]

But considering which one of the two of us can still function on their own, I'm not worried just yet.