let's have a chat. [open&closed]

[smokedout]

Who: Dodger & YOU.
What: A catch-all log for Dodger this month.
Where: Aaaall over the place.
When: June 7th-30th
Notes: Content warning for violence, will update with further warnings.

--

A | OPEN: Marketplace

[When not being a criminal pile of garbage, Dodger is a mechanic at heart. He knows the ins and outs of motorbikes almost as well as he knows the limits of human anatomy. He's reasonably confident that while he probably can't find the right parts for a motorbike, he can scrounge up something to makeshift into it.

If someone has a keen eye and the will to stop him, though, he isn't actually paying for everything he takes. He'll pay for some things, but others will just coincidentally get forgotten in his pockets. The problem is that he's teleporting from place to place; he'll burst into a puff of sparks and reappear about ten feet away, suddenly focused on something else entirely. If someone wants to be a hero, it'll take some focus to track him... but it isn't like he can really blend in with those scars and tattoos.]

B | CLOSED: Ivar Ragnarsson

[You know what the worst part about owning a dog is? The broken laws of physics. For the umpteenth time in a month he's dragging Braska back into his room by the collar, and at this point he's just become numb instead of openly angry. He locks the door behind them, and leans against the wall to give the dog a hard look.]

You're a fucking asshole. [He pauses.] And I got nothing better to do, so. We're staying right here until I figure out how the hell you keep opening the door.

C | CLOSED: Rio

[It seems Rio is not the only one with an uncanny habit of showing up where he's least expected. When Rio gets home today, Dodger will be sitting on his couch. Not like a proper human being, but perched on the back with his shoes on the cushions. He's smoking, not his first by the smell of it, and appears to have a nosebleed that dried out and never got cleaned up... it's even staining his shirt.]

Got a moment?

D | CLOSED | Max Tinder

[Dodger doesn't tend to announce himself, particularly when he's got a less than savory motive. There is simply a drifting cloud of sparks that slides into the air through Max's door, and materializes into the man. At first he's silent, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one by snapping his fingers and holding the flame it produces up.]

So. This is my last smoke, and I figure it's time to do something about it. Let's have a chat.

Comments

A

[becauseyouhaveto]

Carol does happen to notice the man taking things. At first, he does it right beside her, while the shop owner is engaged with another customer. She watches him slip something into his pocket, then disappear. It startles her, as she was just about to say something to him about the theft.

It's easy enough for her to follow him around unnoticed. She's good at blending in with the crowds and keeping quiet while she observes. All his teleporting is the main problem. She can't get from place to place as fast as he can, but his unmistakable appearance and the sparks make him easy to spot.

Finally, she's close enough to gently tap him on the elbow. She clears her throat much like a mother getting ready to scold an unruly child, then speaks quietly. "You're getting an awful lot of discounts, aren't you?"

[smokedout]

Dodger had noticed he's being followed - the paranoia helps his awareness - but he's already classified her as harmless. Just another goody two shoes to make life a little more annoying.

He doesn't look up when she talks, but keeps casually browsing through wares.

"I'm a charming man. Guess they can't resist treating me." His gaze slowly slides over to her, cocking his head as if to say, do we have a problem?

[becauseyouhaveto]

"It's not like you're giving them much of a choice," she counters. A couple of years ago, she may have simply looked the other way and kept quiet, but now, after having met Daryl and making a connection between him and Dodger, she can't help stepping in.

She gives him an innocent smile, playing up the matronly angle. "Don't you think these people deserve more than petty thefts? They're providing more than just goods, you know. It's a sense of normalcy in a foreign land."

[smokedout]

"You could say I'm providing the same. I don't see why crime should stop just because times are hard."

If anything, the mothering really puts him off. He ends up shifting an inch away from her, even as he maintains eye contact almost spitefully. "If they really didn't want someone stealing their shit, they'd keep a better eye on it. It's not my problem if people can't cover their asses."

[becauseyouhaveto]

"I don't see how crime serves a purpose here." She crosses her arms over her chest, which, if he's paying attention, exposes the tip of the knife sheath on her left hip. She, of course, doesn't realize this, and is only trying to intimidate him.

"There's good somewhere in there, y'know. And this isn't exactly the situation to make more enemies than friends."

[spherenpc]

[Max doesn't even look up at the sparks or sound of someone appearing in his office. Instead he just drags off his cigar lazily and keeps his eyes down on his papers.]

If you're here thinking your dumb ass is going to scare me, threaten me, manipulate me or hurt me into letting you have your way, you should probably be saving yourself some time kid. None of that shit is going to work on me.

[Drawing back in his comfy chair, he just huffs the cigar and there isn't a single trace of fear in him.]

So, I'd advice you to take your bullshit thuggery elsewhere.

[smokedout]

[Dodger is silent for a moment, too busy taking a long drag from his cigarette. He ends up chuckling by the end of it.]

Bullshit thuggery, that's cute.

[He leans back on the door, watching Max carefully. Not getting too close, in case there's something behind that confidence, but surely there isn't. He seems like a normie.]

Like I said, we're having a chat. So. What do you want, in exchange for letting me buy shit from your cronies.

[spherenpc]

[Max doesn't give anything away, and he just stares dead in Dodger's eyes. before he snorts softly.]

A chat. That's what you call this coming into my office and trying to intimidate me bullshit? Yeah, sure. I want a fucking apology, a real one, and then maybe I'll consider letting people sell to ya again.

[Consider it. No promises.]

[smokedout]

Sorry, am I intimidating you? [That's a totally fake smile, he isn't even trying to sound sincere.] Because really, I'm being civil. We're just talking.

See, the thing is I don't remember doing anything wrong. Do you mind reminding me?

[spherenpc]

You're sure as shit trying to, but let me tell ya something kid. Ya don't. You're talking to someone who has seen it all and you and your little magic tricks? Don't do fuck all for me.

You were an asshole. You apologize. Then I'll consider. Until then, you can see your way out.

[smokedout]

I was an asshole, so you're cutting off my right to smoke. Little harsh, yeah?

[He bursts into sparks again, and this time reappears crouching on top of Max's desk. For a moment he just cocks his head, considering his options. But he didn't come to barter, he came to punish.

He holds both palms out and pitches forward suddenly as flames burst out of his hands. He's aiming to grab onto Max's face and shoulder, and burn through the skin with his touch.]

[spherenpc]

[As soon as he lands on Max’s desk, instantly the older man is back out of harm’s rage and he just flicks a finger at him. With that flick of a finger the man’s burning hands start to disintegrate into nothing.

Very clinically he just announces:]

That was dumb. How many times have you died here kid?

A

[itsnothingpersonal]

[Loki has set himself to exploring this new world of his, in so far as he's trapped in it, and getting to know the environs. He's also taken to transmogrifying his clothing with a spell to blend in with the locals and fly under the radar of the others who seemed to use this network in an effort to ascertain more information about the place. People rarely took note of someone who seemed to belong, after all.

What caught Loki's attention about Dodger's actions wasn't his thievery (he really couldn't care less), but the ability. Teleportation certainly had its uses, after all, even if he did leave a trace behind when it happened. He follows the man as best he can, either using magically manifested doppelgangers or simply the trail of sparks, trying to piece together what he might be collecting parts for. It seems specific, but the machinations are beyond him.

Finally, taking a chance of speaking to the man once he'd moved once more, it wasn't a clone of his but Loki himself, as luck would have it.]

You've collected an interesting group of objects.

[smokedout]

[Dodger doesn't look up; he's still hard at work finding something to use for a breather hose, now that he's got most of an unassembled carburetor in a shopping bag. He knows he's calling attention to himself, but it's faster than trying to lay completely low.]

Do they have motorbikes in your world?

[itsnothingpersonal]

We have much more sophisticated vehicles, but yes. We have motorbikes.

[He does look around, first one direction, then another.]

Cramped passages for a motorbike, though, to say nothing of fuel.

[smokedout]

Sure, yeah, everyone thinks they can beat a motorbike.

[He just happens to think they're the pinnacle of human invention, and no one can change his mind.]

Only cramped for a beginner. And let me worry about fuel, yeah? [He finally looks up, and gives Loki a calculating look.] You been following me, or what? What do you want?

[itsnothingpersonal]

I can.

[But he doesn't seem to be illuminating that claim anytime soon. Yes, yes. Humans seem to think they themselves are the pinnacle of invention. Heh.]

You have an interesting set of abilities that lend themselves well to thievery.

[He's speaking freely, and not quietly, and yet no one around, not the shopkeeper or the other patrons, seem to hear or to even notice either of them are there.]

[smokedout]

Thanks for noticing.

[He gives Loki an odd look, just for a moment; it's just not a compliment he was expecting to get. Especially given that teleportation is not uncommon where he's from.]

Are you looking for help with something? Because I'm not cheap.

[Yes he is.]

[itsnothingpersonal]

I have no need for help, at least not with goods acquisition.

[And, as the gaze of the attentive shop owner falls on them, or should have at any rate, Loki blatantly takes something sharp and pointed from the display rack that quickly disappears as though it were never there. He doesn't just pocket it. It litterally disappears, and the shopowner doesn't seem to see it. Or him. Or Dodger.]

Perhaps we can help one another. You seem to know your way around well enough.

B

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar really should have known that this was going to happen. He could only drive a paranoid neurotic to the brink of insanity so many times before Dodger eventually would have it with him. The problem was that, before, he'd always assumed that he'd have enough time to morph back to human form to escape. But it didn't look like Dodger was going to allow him that chance this time.

He'd whined and howled all the way back to the room, digging his stubby claws into the floor, but to no avail. Now here he was and it looked like his luck had run out. His only course of action was hoping to be alone for a minute or two while Dodger was focused on something else. He blinks up at Dodger with an innocent expression on his fuzzy face, wagging his tail back and forth like he has no clue what's being said to him.

He spends a good fifteen minutes just doing normal dog things: wandering around the room, chewing on his toys, and pawing at the door to go back out again. It's wasting time, but he has to act casual. He knows Dodger won't let him out, but it would seem suspicious if he didn't at least try. Then he hops down into Dodger's bed and curls up like he's going to take a nap. Dodger had fought against him spending time in the bed, but Ivar had charmed his way into being allowed to stay on a number of occasions. He yawns and then closes his eyes.]

[smokedout]

[Aaand he's back on the bed. Sure, sometimes it's lonely in bed and he can't be bothered to argue, but he's starting to beat himself up about it now. He knows his dog doesn't take no for an answer and the mixed signals don't help. Once again Dodger stalks over and grabs Ivar to unceremoniously dump him on the floor next to the bed.]

No. [There's a growl in his voice, born from pure frustration.] You stay on the floor.

[It doesn't help that now, he's banned from buying alcohol. He can handle being a functioning alcoholic just fine, until his dependence is put in jeopardy. This is starting to piss him off, and all he wants is a beer.]

[ragnarsson]

[Hmph. Rude. Ivar looks over at Dodger with an incredible amount of side-eye for a canine. Okay, he's still clearly pissed-off.

Rather then complaining, Ivar decides to go for the nicer approach. You catch more flies with honey then with vinegar He goes over and sits on his owner's feet. The dog whines in the back of his throat, looking up at Dodger with a pair of big, sad, pleading eyes. No one can resist a dog this cute and charming, can they?]

[smokedout]

[Dodger nudges Ivar a few inches away with his foot, and stalks away to search through his fridge. It's basically empty, as usual. No point in stocking food if you don't know how to cook.

After some mindless wandering around the apartment he groans and returns to the dog, fishing him back out of the bed if he's taken the opportunity. He really isn't in the mood for this, and his brain is swimming without his fixes.]

Hurry up and do whatever you do... I know you can get out of here, don't play coy.

[His fingers are tapping on his leg uneasily. Being paranoid and under withdrawal are not a great combination, especially not with trying to handle a frustrating pet.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar immediately goes back to lying in the bed and is subsequently fished back out again. He could do this all day long, but it appears Dodger's patience is growing short. He keeps a carefully neutral expression on his face when Dodger speaks to him. Well, he'll get his wish soon enough in an hour and a half whether Ivar wants to show him or not.

Ivar instead walks over to his bowl, eating some kibble and drinking some water before returning to Dodger's side. He can sense the man's off-kilter mood and the dog's instincts are distressed by this. He licks his hand a few times, sniffing him over. The cigarette smell is less pronounced then usual.]

[smokedout]

[Whenever he was dissociating particularly hard, Crusher would always try to snap him out of it by licking his hand. At least, after two years of that, Dodger manages to focus back on Ivar when he feels it. For a moment he almost looks relieved, before the scowl comes right back.

Well, he can always try to trick him. He pauses for a moment, before bursting into sparks and disappearing. He didn't actually teleport, though, he's just turned invisible and moved himself into a corner of the room. If Ivar is attentive, he'll be able to smell him and hear him, but it's reasonable for him to assume he's gone.]