riverviewlogs | [Forward-Dated to 1/16] Happy birthday, asshole. [Open]

He smirked softly. Obviously, that's why he'd mentioned it, "I do not."

A hassle, but a requirement for Ragnar. Unless Dodger wanted to go hang out in the woods, which Ragnar certainly wasn't opposed to. His daughter shared the house with him and now Athelstan as well, but he was only really worried about Gyda hearing or walking in on something she really didn't need to. She'd heard more than enough sharing the wall-less farmhouse their family had before in Kattegat.

"Your...? Oh. I understand. Today you are a year older. It is not something we really celebrate, no. Unless it is a year where a child has become old enough to join the raids or something like that," He smirked, "I do not think you qualify."

He raised an eyebrow.

"With me? Why? You do have others. Your dog has..." He paused. He couldn't believe these words were coming out of his mouth, "Your dog has spoken of them."

He hesitates again, his brow knitting for a moment as he tries to decide how to sum this up without revealing too much emotion.

"It's complicated." He settles on that, and then adds for clarification: "There's really only one other. I tried to kill him the other day."

He figures if anyone's going to understand that, it's Ragnar. And with that, he's just going to head in the direction of his apartment and assume the Viking is following. It's much too great a distance to try teleporting, better to save his energy so he doesn't hospitalize himself... again.

Ragnar raises an eyebrow, though the questioning look is directed at the back of Dodger's head. He takes a few longer strides to catch up and then falls into step beside Dodger before saying anything.

"Why?" Obviously, he wanted to know what this other person had done. Not that Dodger couldn't take care of things himself, but maybe he needed someone to finish the job if this person had done something truly awful. Little did Ragnar know, that likely wasn't at all the case. He remembered the dog saying the name ones, but all he remembered was a 'sh' and a 'g' sound. It had been a strange name, unfamiliar to him.

He gives an awkward shrug, "I lost my temper. It was just... stupid. It doesn't matter, anyway, point is that we're not speaking right now."

At least, after slamming Shigeru into the ground until it cracked, he figured the man wouldn't really care that it's his birthday. In an idle motion, he starts scratching at the gauze wraps hiding his wrists.

"So. Birthdays. Usually there's... cake, presents, people congratulate you on living another year. Kids tend to get whole parties, adults just get.. y'know, something lazier. But, uh... no one likes me in the Quarantine, so I figure a rematch would be- good enough."

That explanation actually made perfect sense to Ragnar. He'd seen it countless times back home. Someone gets a little too drunk, tempers flare and people try to kill one another. It happened.

"He took it personally?" That was unfortunate.

"I am surprised people continue to count," Ragnar had a very rough idea of how old he was only because he knew how old his children were and he knew roughly how old he'd been when they were born, "What is cake? You do not want that and presents? You would prefer to fight?"

He nods in answer to the question about Shigeru, but honestly he's just... ready to move on to a new topic. So he only answers the birthday questions.

"Cake is like... sweet bread, I guess. With this stuff that's- sugar and water, mixed together, on top." Does Ragnar even know what sugar is? Christ. "It's sweet, is the point. Usually people put little candles on top to count out how old you turned. I'm turning 26 today." He pauses to scratch the back of his head awkwardly, "And I don't- I wouldn't mind... cake and presents. It's just.. yeah. No one likes me. So, better to just fight and have sex with you than worry about it."

His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to think if he'd eaten anything that matched that description yet. The closest he could think of was the key lime pie he'd tried. As far as sugar, and most other things that hadn't made their way to Scandinavia yet, he'd experienced quite a few of them since arriving, though he couldn't always keep their names straight. Sugar he knew, it seemed to him like it was in everything.

"What do we need to make a cake? You know how to make one? And bake it?" It didn't occur to him immediately that they could just buy one.

He smirked slightly, "Why not cake and sex?"

His eyes widen a bit, and maybe he's blushing. Okay, it's not really a 'maybe'. His cheeks have turned a bright shade of pink.

"Uh-... because... that's something you do when you're dating? Or- what is it... courting. Someone." He lets out an awkward laugh, and shakes his head, "We could just... buy some cake. If you wanna try it. I don't mind if that's. What you wanna- you do owe me a rematch, though." He pauses then, and gives Ragnar a sort of searching look before adding, in an attempt to be smart with him, "Unless you wanna forfeit and give me a birthday blowjob."

He snorted softly in laughter, smirking. It wasn't the first time that both dating and courting had come up.

"You say that as if courting is a word I would recognize better," He said teasingly.

"So, cake and sex would be something we would do if we were dating, but cake and fighting and then sex is not?" Dodger isn't the only one being a smartass, "And since when do I 'owe' you a rematch?"

He doesn't say no to the 'forfeiting and blowjob', he doesn't even waste his breath, just gives Dodger a dubious look.

"What, Vikings don't have a.. a testing stage, before they get married?"

He shrugs sheepishly, shoving his hands in his pockets and suddenly becoming very interested in his own shoes.

"It's just more- romantic. Y'know, it's got that whole... cake and wine and rose petals... thing..." Rose petals. He shudders at the thought of them, and shakes his head, "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you. It's just... I'unno, it's stupid. Nevermind."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, but sort of shook his head after a moment.

"Not... really. No," He snickered, "If anything, it sounds more like when someone wants to marry someone else, but they are not so sure they want to be married, so they must be convinced."

Still smiling, Ragnar did look a little puzzled as Dodger tried to explain what he meant.

"I did not use cake and wine and roses to convince my wife though," He smirked.

"Just-" Ugh, explaining this is frustrating. He turns on Ragnar, stopping to grab his face and pull him into a kiss. And then a few more kisses, just to cool himself down from the frustration of having to bridge this damn cultural gap.

"...Cake and sex is fine." His face had turned dark red, and his expression is akin to a moody kid. "We'll just stop by the store on the way to my place, alright?"

And it was precisely because it seemed to be aggravating Dodger that he'd continued to press it, definitely finding it amusing. He was smirking into the kiss, though it lessened as he returned it, fingers curling into Dodger's shirt until he had a handful of fabric to hold onto.

He wet his lips, smiling smugly again when Dodger broke the kiss and he idly flattened out and straightened Dodger's shirt.

"Alright."

"Good."

Dodger doesn't speak much after that, as they get to the store and he picks up one of those small boston creme cakes that can feed four people, and a pair of candles that spell out 26. Their conversation doesn't become worth following until they're teleported back into his apartment, where he sets the cake on the counter, stick the candles into it carefully and lights them with a snap of his fingers. Unlike his cigarette trick, he doesn't even need to touch them this time - he just concentrates on the wicks, and they light on their own.

"Usually there's a song to go with this, but I'm not gonna sing it." He mutters, glancing at Ragnar, "Because I don't want you learning shit that'll annoy me."

"I can play it, if you're curious." Brink supplies helpfully, from his crate.

At the shop, Ragnar had proudly pointed out that he'd heard of chocolate when the attendant had told them about the specials. He'd then been quietly fascinated that there were multicolored candles shaped like numbers. They were done and moving on to the apartment without too much of a hitch though.

By Ragnar's subtle, impish smirk it was obvious that Dodger shouldn't have admitted such a thing and he turned to give the dog a smile.

"Of course, I would love to learn one of your traditional songs," He prompted, "How does it go?"

"Fucking hell..." Dodger rolls his eyes, as Brink gives him the most impish look a dog can manage.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Dodger, happy birthday to you."

"I paid good money to get you fixed after that horse broke you, you better not make me drag you back there."

Brink's tongue lolls out and he pants happily. The more the dog develops a personality, the more prone Dodger seems to be to headaches. He just shakes his head and turns back to the cake, blowing out the candles and taking them back out before glancing at Ragnar, "The candles are supposed to give you a wish. For whatever that's worth."

Ragnar didn't join in, but grinned impishly at Dodger, watching his reaction as the dog played(?), sang (?) the song.

"Aw. I thought it was very good. Well done, dog," It still felt bizarre speaking to the creature, though it really was more like a machine than a dog.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little, expression hovering on suggestive, "And... what did you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true."

A surprisingly childish assertion from Dodger, but there's a smirk curling onto his face as he says it. But he implies what he wished for well enough, by slipping his fingers into Ragnar's hair and pulling him into a warm kiss.

"So, do you want some of this or not?" Because Dodger is a Classy Gentleman, and has just pulled out a fork to eat the cake without bothering to portion it out or anything.

"What a strange custom," He smirked, "Who are you wishing to?"

He hadn't asked Dodger what gods or god he believed in yet, but his assumption was that he was wishing to them. He even wondered if they'd be offering a portion of the food to them in hopes that they'd hear his wish.

Smirking, he leaned into the kiss. Well, if it was that kind of wish there was a very good chance it would be granted.

"I did make you buy it for me," He said, smirk widening a little. Apparently, Ragnar wasn't expecting it to be portioned out either and reached over to half break and half scoop a small, bite-size piece off with just his fingers and popped it into his mouth. His eyebrows raised in surprise and he gave Dodger a nod of approval at the taste.

"Who knows... doesn't really matter, does it."

He'd never really thought about it, honestly. Birthday cakes and shooting stars just grant wishes, it doesn't matter who's in charge of that. Even the one cult Dodger had been involved in had never cared about trivial things like that.

"Savage." He grumbles, shoveling a mouthful with his fork as if that's any better, before pressing another quick kiss to Ragnar's lips. "Don't they have table manners in... Norseland?"

"You do not know who you ask favors from?" Ragnar actually looked mildly concerned, "Then how do you know at what price they will be granted?"

He pauses and raises an eyebrow at Dodger, genuinely clueless.

"What do you mean?" He glances over and steals Dodger's fork, apparently wanting to inspect it and not actually use it, licking his thumb and finger clean thoughtlessly as he looks at it, "We have manners. We do not have these though."

He turns back to Dodger and hands him the fork back, "Norway. Scandinavia. 'Where you are from'."

He's smirking, obviously teasing Dodger a bit.

"Is it wrong to use my fingers to eat this? I am to use," He points at the fork, "One of those?"

"Yeah, because your fingers are dirty. Didn't even wash your hands before eating." He puts on a teasing tone, tut-tutting in mock offense. "Here, open your mouth."

He takes the fork back and spins it on his fingers for a moment before slicing off another mouthful of cake, and feeding it to Ragnar with a surprisingly gentle and affectionate gesture. He even takes a moment to rub out a stray bit of chocolate on Ragnar's cheek.

"You're supposed to use forks so you don't end up getting food all over yourself like a baby."

Ragnar frowned a little and looked down at his hands (which were definitely dirty).

"Not really. Just some... soil. Maybe some dirt from the wood," Practically clean in other words.

He gave him a questioning, lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow dubiously, "You are going to feed me?"

He wasn't really sure how he felt about that, but after a moment and a long-suffering sigh, he shook his head at himself and opened his mouth. He finished the mouthful and definitely batted Dodger's 'helpful' hand away as he went to get some chocolate off of him.

"But you have just used a fork to feed me.... like a baby," He smirked.

"Don't get smart with me." He chirps playfully, pausing to eat a few bites of cake himself. "I'd rather feed you then get your grubby-ass hands all over my birthday cake."

And since he hadn't been allowed to use his hands on that spot, he's instead leaning up to lick the chocolate off of Ragnar's face. And then he offers him another mouthful of cake as compensation.

"You should count yourself lucky... I'd kill to sit around getting hand-fed all day."

He has killed for that. It's not even really a joke.

Being chided just makes him smirk softly, though he is half tempted to pull another piece of cake off for no other reason than because Dodger has told him not to.

He wrinkled his nose when Dodger licked a bit of, he was assuming, cake from his face.

"You are just making me sticky," He accused, feigning annoyance, rubbing the spot Dodger had licked. He took the fork before Dodger can stop him and eats the bite of cake on it before poking experimentally at the cake before mimicking what he'd watched Dodger do, getting a bit on the fork to offer to Dodger.

"I would not," He smirked a little, "It makes me think of... when I am too injured to do it myself. And people can always do things like this."

He raised the fork ever so slightly as he was going in for Dodger's mouth, getting icing on his nose.

"Such an annoyance," He says it with complete innocence.

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