ragnarsson | IC Inbox

I'd keep your horses away from me, if you don't want to smell them cooking later.

[Again, said as evenly as he can manage, but the memory of Brink laying smashed and scorched is still bitter in the back of his mind.]

But trust me, I don't play around with my livelihood. So. We've got three options. One, you can owe me a favor - whatever I happen to need, you'll have to do for me, no questions asked, just once. Two, you can give me some information I want, as a trade. I've got a couple questions I wouldn't mind getting answers for, so it's a fair deal. Three, we can figure a monetary value for what I know. It's the riskiest route for satisfaction, but it'll keep you from giving me an advantage. Which will it be.

[Ivar goes silent as he considers the pros and cons of each option. The first option is completely out. He's not willing to owe Dodger anything, especially something he might be reluctant to do down the line. That leaves the other two. He wonders what Dodger wants to know. Whatever it is, Ivar's probably not going to like it. Still, it's only information. The last offer is also an option. But Ivar is a Viking and doesn't part with his wealth easily.

He makes his decision after thinking for about a minute. It might surprise Dodger.]

I'll give you information. But what you're giving me in exchange better be worth it.

It will be.

[He shrugs. Information is an easy route, but unfortunately it negates the need for a written contract, which means he doesn't get to fulfill his ulterior motive of checking for reference if Ivar is literate.]

I'll take my payment up front, then - I want to know about the Viking that came through earlier this month. Is he from your world?

[Ivar's eyes narrow at Dodger's question. He doesn't know why Dodger is asking about his father and he doesn't like it. It's not like Ragnar can't take care of himself, but Ivar knows how manipulative this mutt can be. Still, a deal is a deal.]

Yes.

[Hey, he said he would answer Dodger's questions. He didn't say he would elaborate on the answers.]

[Dodger cocks his head to the side.]

We're gonna sit here until I know enough about him to make it worth telling you what I know. Just so you're aware. [He's dealt with tight-lipped clients before, it's always best to be up-front.] Alright, so you know him. Who is he to you? Close friend?

[Ivar scowls, but he's the one that chose this option. Besides, it wasn't like he had to protect Ragnar all that much. He was strong enough to take care of himself.]

No. He's my father.

[Dodger had seen Ragnar in Ivar's memories, but the old, broken-down Viking king bore little resemblance to the Viking warrior in his prime that had ended up in the city.]

[His father? Seriously??

For a moment Dodger's eyes just widen in awe of this information.]

[And then the information sinks in a little more, and he finds himself holding back laughter.

His father, Dodger had fucked Ivar's dad, oh that is fucking priceless. A hand flies to his mouth to hold back his snickering but it's really doing no good, and he's just letting out strangled little noises of amusement.]

[And no more than a minute later, Ivar gets to see the happiest Dodger has ever been in his presence. He has to kick his chair backward to stop from hitting his head on the table, as he doubles over laughing at the top of his lungs. He's clutching his sides, booming loud enough to disturb half of the bar around them. Fuck, he's forgotten how to breathe and he still can't stop laughing, oh jesus that's good.

And... yeah, it doesn't seem like it's going to stop any time soon.]

[It's a good thing Ivar is blissfully unaware of everything running through Dodger's head at the moment. He finds the reaction quite off-putting, for he's never seen Dodger this happy about, well, anything before.

He waits for the laughter to subside, but when it appears that's not going to be the case anytime soon, he pulls away from the table with a disgusted snort. He should have known this was going to be a waste of his time.]

I'm leaving. You're fucking useless like this.

[The wood of the table buckles a bit as Dodger grips it and tries to get a grip of himself, nearly in tears from laughter.]

Fuck- [He lets out a satisfied sigh, he can't remember the last time he felt this good.] -Alright. No, get back, you paid in full. You want your info or not?

[The words are still broken up by snickers because Jesus, how had he not put that together? The accent, the looks, the smell, the attitude... it was all just a better version of Ivar.]

[There's a sound Ivar makes in his throat that is somewhere between a sigh and a growl. He never has great patience when it comes to Dodger. Plus, he's still not sure what all that laughing was about, but he doesn't like it.]

This information better be good.

[Strange that he'd had to give relatively little information in exchange for it.]

Depends - do you consider your daughter's mother good?

[That should be enough information to keep him from leaving, and it's about Dodger seems to be planning to give at the moment. He leans back in his chair, his laughter melting into a smug grin as he watches Ivar's expression with wolf-like curiosity.]

[At the mention of Letha, Ivar's eyes flickered with a myriad of emotions, finally settling on fury, and his face grew hard. He wondered if the suspicions he'd had were about to be confirmed.]

Tell me.

[Dodger responds with a winning smile, and motions for Ivar to make himself comfortable again. They still have booze, it'd be a shame for it to go to waste.]

She came back along with your father. She's been gathering information on suppressing powers like your daughter's. And it looks like she's been trying to fly under the radar- [His eyes narrow.] -But something tells me you're a little too smart for a dumb broad like her. I figure you could find her pretty quick.

[Ivar wasn't sure what made him angrier: that it had likely indeed been her at Yule, trying to deceive him, or the fact she was trying to find a way to suppress Winter's powers. Like Winter was broken or something. Well, he knew exactly what he was going to do about this. By the time he was done, it was likely the whole Quarantine would know how furious he was.]

I know exactly where she is. [He was fingering the knife he always carried, picturing driving it through her throat. He turns to go before turning back.] Thanks for the information.

[It had indeed been worth the price.]

No problem.

[He watches the knife, and another chuckle escapes him as he thinks about just how many of those would end up in his chest if Ivar knew exactly what he'd paid for that information.]

See you around, kid.

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