Going on a rampage again today

[hellshot]

who: Reaper hellshot and Dodger smokedout
what: Dodger lost his collar due to the fire, Reaper's set on getting it back on him
when: Backdated to the housing fire
where: All over the place, given Dodger's ability to teleport
warnings: t/w for usual talks of murder and Reaper's very dead face



[He knows damn well that Jaime Dodger is the sort of man whom, if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. While he doesn't have a full rundown on the guy's power, he knows enough to know that the guy wouldn't be against using whatever tricks he could in order to stay hidden.

And of course he'd want to stay hidden--if he's fully determined to keep from having his powers sealed again. And who wouldn't? The entire reason Reaper's kept his own usual activities quiet was entirely because he couldn't handle the idea of being limited by the law that existed in this damnable place.

He could so easily have ignored the message he'd received from Edward, telling him that he'd removed Dodger's collar to keep it from killing him when everyone needed to evacuate--but Gabriel Reyes was never a man who did anything half-assedly. That fact hadn't changed when he died.

With the ability to turn into smoke and being able to sneak into even the most secure locations through cracks in windows and under doorways, at the very least his search will be thorough, even if locating Dodger has been a fruitless effort so far.

Searching his usual haunts, festival grounds and inquiring with a few of their mutual acquaintances...

Even sending the man a text of Where are you. wouldn't be out of the question.
He'll find him sooner or later...]

Comments

[hellshot]

[He can't disagree that the 'collar' is reasonably bullshit. Not that he was going to voice that sort of opinion so easily--not while Dodger is having his bit out at the air now as it is. Despite the handful of ... 'friends' he's made between Earth, the Eluvio, and this place, he still hadn't become someone who's good at social interactions like these. He's far too divorced from humanity, now, to fully get why Dodger is so upset over Eichi leaving. (even if he, too, had been torn up about it, his feelings manifest as sourness and quiet, seething anger, not... whatever it is Dodger's going through right now.)]

You spend a whole lot of time thinking about how the world likes to screw you over, don't you. [His response is quiet, toneless--there's something almost judgemental in it, but he keeps away from sounding accusatory. Almost like he's trying to get Dodger to get a fucking clue.]

Eichi was the first person to take you serious? He satisfied your need to have someone pay attention to you? Someone finally gave your life meaningful worth, only to be ripped away by nothing.

Sounds like you've had your first fucking logical breakthrough. Relying on others to see your own worth is a one-way ticket to being miserable for the rest of your life.

There's a damned reason why I don't let other people into my life. I don't give a damn about what kind of a Thorn in my side you think you are. But thinking you're so special in my list of people I think should stay away from me, then you're more self-involved than I first thought.

[smokedout]

I've got nothing except myself, you really think I should try concentrating on anyone else when I'm losing my fucking mind in this city?

[He's bristled, but his expression is twisted as he tries to hide how hurt he is. And it really isn't working. He's absolutely fine with Reaper not caring one way or the other about him - it's better than being actively hated - but it still means that he isn't needed or wanted. By anyone.]

There's no greater purpose here. No one needs my help. No one needs anything. We're all just sitting ducks- sitting around until we either find our way home or get stuck some place else and it's all fucking random. So what the fuck should I be doing, other than worrying about myself? I've got nothing. And you're lucky enough to have your fucking sanity at the end of the day, so how would you understand?

[hellshot]

What you should be doing? That's why you kept after me with that 'use me' nonsense before Eichi caught your attention, wasn't it. So you had some way to occupy your time.

[Putting the responsibility of your quality of life in someone elses' hands--there's something pathetic about it, but...]

Instead of sitting around and complaining about being fucking useless or having nothing to do, how about putting a foot forward and actually try. Don't you get it? That's exactly the shit that idol was doing for you.

It's pathetic of you, someone without the illnesses and weaknesses that brat had to be whining here like a child.
And asking me how the hell I understand? Suggesting that I have my sanity at the end of the day?

[Finally, a low, rattling laugh. One that expels smoke as his form shifts, not quite keeping its form.]

You have no idea what truly having nothing feels like.

[smokedout]

[That last comment has Dodger bristling with anger, and for a moment flames flicker across the skin of his arms.]

And you have no idea what I've lived through! You think if I had a choice I'd be trolling for old men in halloween costumes to tell me what the fuck to do with my life? I'm trying to keep myself from going fucking insane! And Eichi was at least helping instead of backing off like an emotionally constipated fucking asshole!

[He wishes he had something to throw, but instead he just clenches his fists and lets the temperature of his body slowly rise while tendrils of flame flicker around his hands.]

You wanna know what nothing feels like? How about waking up to see your mother dead because every scrap of food she got, she gave to you? How about spending eight years being told you only eat if you're useful? How about being so cold, hungry, desperate for human contact that joining a cult seems like a godsend? And how about getting so fucking broken there that you get stuck in a compulsive loop trying to think about it? How about spending two years finally having a purpose, feeling good about yourself, just to get it ripped away because you got crapped out by some portal into a city that doesn't need people like you, and the people here just apologize for the inconvenience and expect you to move on!

[He's panting, because he barely took a breath during all of that.]

I'm not whining, you dumb fuck, get that through your head. I had one person giving me a purpose, for once, and I haven't seen him in seven fucking months. I haven't known what to do with myself for seven fucking months. And trust me, I've tried functioning without him, I just don't. Because I'm a fucking dog and it's all I'm good for, following orders and pining. Does that make sense? Is it worth fucking listening to me this time?