ragnarsson | The Sphere Inbox

Ivar. Ivar, we gotta talk. Pick up, I'm-

[His voice is hushed, panicked, and sounds as if he just ran a mile. There's a certain slur to his words that betrays he's been drinking - and quite a lot, if it actually has an effect on him.]

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

[Ivar's honestly surprised that Dodger has called him. Usually, it's the other way around, and he has to fight tooth and nail to get the mutant to talk to him. But he sounds very off in a way Ivar's only heard once or twice before. It's clear he's going to have to take charge here.]

Where are you?

My dome. I'm in my dome, it's... unlocked. Door's open.

[He chooses to leave out that he is crumpled under the sink in his bathroom, shaking and hyperventilating with a bottle of wine clutched in his hands. He just needed something to hold. His dome in general is a mess - plates smashed against walls, furniture thrown clear across the room and scorch marks on the wall. Certainly, none of that was there the last time Ivar visited.]

[Ivar doesn't bother asking what happened. Instead, he just limps over to Dodger's dome. He checks for booby traps again, more out of habit then anything else. There's a lot easier ways to hurt Ivar then making some phone call like he needed help.

He goes through, toes hitting things like shards of glass from all the broken crockery. It looks like a warzone in here.]

Dodger?

[He checks the kitchen before going over to the bathroom. When he pushes the door open and sees him curled up there, Ivar just shakes his head. Just when he thought this dog couldn't get anymore pathetic. It's always three steps forward, two steps back with him.]

What a sight you are.

[He glances up at the voice, just long enough to confirm its source, before his gaze darts back to his shoes. He knows he's pathetic, and he expects to be kicked and told to get off the floor because that is what Augustine would do if he had the nerve to ask him for help.]

...don't have a backup, don't have blackmail, I'm gonna get fucking caught and I can't- I'm not doing that...

[He had already been mumbling to himself, the only thing he can do is raise his voice just enough for Ivar to hear.]

[He's spiraling, that's clear enough to Ivar. Time to snap him out of it. With some difficulty, he sits down, and then smartly slaps Dodger across the face.]

Wake up! I didn't come over here to be witness to your ramblings.

[Ivar's never been one to sugarcoat things. If Dodger wanted that, he could've called up someone else.]

[Dodger squeaks in shock when he's slapped, but his eyes focus after a moment and he stares up at him. He's uncharacteristically meek, pressing himself deeper against the bottom of the sink as if expecting Ivar to hit him again. As if he has no intention to fight back if he does.]

[Well, that hadn't worked as well as Ivar would've liked, but at least it got him to stop rambling on like a loon. Ivar scoots forward a little, closing the space between them. Alright, the hard approach hadn't worked. Time to try a soft touch instead. He reaches out, curling his callused fingers around Dodger's hand.]

Tell me what's going on.

[He flinches, but allows Ivar to touch him and after a moment he grips his hand in return.]

I- hurt someone, and there's no- there's no reason he shouldn't go tell someone, I don't have blackmail on him and I can't stop him if he tells and I'll get- fucking killed over and over again until Max fucking Tinder decides he's done with me and I'm-

[He manages to stop himself, pressing the heel of his free hand into his good eye and taking a deep and shaky breath. It's odd how his bad eye stays open, staring blankly at nothing - it's hard to notice how unfocused it is, when both are open.]

[Ivar lets go of Dodger's hand, only to grab Dodger's face between both his hands.]

I can't do anything for you unless you calm down. Now take a big breath in and hold it.

[In the meantime, Ivar's going to try to figure out what to do about this. Dodger, as usual, was in trouble, and for a reason the Viking couldn't fathom he'd gone to Ivar instead of anyone else. Maybe he has been training this dog better then he'd initially thought.]

[Again, he flinches, but it's because he can't see what Ivar is doing. His own hands move over Ivar's wrists, briefly wanting to push him away but ultimately clinging to him as Dodger tries to follow his instructions. He takes a faltering breath and lets it go immediately, then a second that lasts just a little bit longer. The bottle he'd been holding has rolled onto the floor, but it was empty anyway. It's forgotten now, gone from his reality because the only things that exist are Ivar and the lurking feeling of dread.]

...just lost control, I got drunk, I just- my- I don't know, my steady, I hurt him too and he won't speak to me and I just needed to break something and I wasn't thinking...

[Another deep breath, this one he manages to hold in for a moment but his breath is short again right after.]

[Ivar's finally getting more of a sense of what it is that Dodger did. Looks like he screwed up as usual. The only thing really puzzling Ivar is why Dodger went to him in the first place. Maybe he senses that Ivar will take control of the situation at hand. Someone has to and it sure as hell isn't the sad sack in front of him.]

Who? Who did you hurt?

[Dodger is finally starting to breath evenly - loudly, raggedly, but evenly. He hesitates for a moment, unsure if Ivar even knows who his victims are.]

Theon- Theon Greyjoy.

[For a moment, there's a look of absolute misery on Dodger's face. Theon had seemed like such a perfect man. Someone Dodger genuinely wanted to befriend. And he had ruined it, and he knows he did.]

[Fortunately for Dodger, Ivar's had his own run-ins with Theon. It doesn't surprise him that the mutant would've picked the man out for some of his special treatment. What's interesting is that it sounds like Dodger went too far, something that Ivar's only seen occasionally from him before.]

Ah, that one. You certainly picked a hell of a target.

[So Ivar knows him. Of course he does. Dodger grimaces for a moment, reaching up to mop at his eyes. He can't even explain what's been going through his head, what Theon makes him feel... it's not new, but it's rare, and it's nothing he can put into words.]

I just... want him.

[It's the only way he can explain it. Hopefully, Ivar will understand - he seems to know Dodger just a bit better than Dodger knows himself, sometimes.]

[Ivar shakes his head. Dodger can be such a child sometimes, even more so then Ivar himself, and that's saying something given the temper tantrums the Viking teen can sometimes throw. He's gotta get to the specifics of the situation before he can properly chastise Dodger for his rash actions.]

What'd you do? Burn him?

[Dodger shakes his head, taking another shaky breath before trying to explain.]

I- trapped him in the bathroom. At a bar. And I beat him, but I- I didn't burn him.. much. I melted the doorframe, though, if someone- if someone saw that they'd know it was a firestarter that did it...

[He really made no effort to clean up his crime scene, but he never has. It's never mattered much who sees the destruction.]

[He's far more panicked then he usually appears after doing something like this. Ivar wonders if it's because he thinks he might be facing actual consequences now. Or maybe he went even too far for his own twisted tastes.]

You never do seem to think through your actions. I'm going to need to put you on a leash at this rate.

[Almost instinctively, a grin appears on his face for a second, revving up some clever remark at the mention of a leash. You're the one with the collar. But it disappears just as quickly, almost like one of his shifts between realities.

He almost feels like throwing up, but manages to hold back the urge.]

It's- I'm just... there's this guy, from my world, here, and he- we got in a fight and it was my fucking fault and I thought- I thought fucking Greyjoy up would fix it and it just- we're at the bottom of the fucking ocean, it's not like I can pack up and move if the council figures out who did it... Should have fucking killed him but he'd just come back and tell someone anyway...

[Ivar catches that flip-flop back and forth between Dodger's two emotions. It just shows how unstable the mutant is right now. The teenager lays a hand on top of Dodger's right one, index finger tracing over the tattoo there.]

You're such a child sometimes. You want things, and when you can't have them or they don't go the way you want them to, you lash out without thinking through about the consequences. So you end up in this self-destructive pattern again and again.

[He shivers a bit more from Ivar's touch, but he's starting to cool down a bit. Not much. Being chided really isn't helping anything, but having Ivar here with him is slowly starting to work its effects. It feels... right, to have someone else in control so Dodger doesn't have to think.

A shaky hand reaches up to grip Ivar's collar, pulling him closer in Dodger's best approximation of a request for a hug. If allowed, he'll be pressing sloppy kisses to his face as well. He just wants to avoid the situation, but getting attention is a bonus.]

[He's pulled closer towards Dodger, not resisting the plea for affection. He can feel the warmth of the mutant when he's this close, his temperature perhaps a little warmer then a normal human being would be. He finds himself showing Dodger a bit of grudging care, pressing himself close and wrapping his arms around him.

The kisses are tolerated at first, but eventually, he moves his head back a little so he can speak, the tone in his voice full of fondness.]

What am I going to do with you, hmmm? Sometimes, I think you have no idea of what you're doing half the time.

[He lets out a huff of laughter completely devoid of humor; it's almost like speaking to Augustine all over again. His boss never liked it when he got pathetic like this.]

Why think about it? [He shifts a bit to comfortably pull Ivar onto his lap, calmed by the touch and the smell of the Viking's skin.] I was fighting a war back home, I had a purpose. I was changing the world. Now I'm just... [He lets out a low growl.] Burning cocks off.

[There's a snort there that's one-part derision and one-part a cover up so that Dodger doesn't see him laughing. So now it comes out, what he'd done to start this whole clusterfuck in the first place. He traces some of Dodger's tattoos and old scars with his fingertips.]

Ah. Well, there's not much you can do about that. It's not like you can just tell someone you're sorry for something like that.

Usually can. [He takes a deep breath that ends in a long sigh, and occupies himself by fidgeting with the border of Ivar's shirt.] My uh... steady, we go way back. Six months or so. Jason's his name. We were fucking around when he got here and I- I don't know. I had a moment. Tried to burn his cock off, I don't know why. He was in tears and he was bleeding and I- just tossed him out, I didn't-

[He takes another breath.]

Just needed... something to take it out on and I could track down Greyjoy, so... so I did. And now...

[He just grimaces. Ivar can figure out the rest, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. His hands are wandering under Ivar's shirt now, as if that's going to save him from confronting his actions.]

The Sphere Inbox

audio // @dodger // backdated to the 21st

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