[That's a chilling response... and if it was anyone else, they'd probably have realized now that they were making a horrible life choice. But this is Dodger. And he doesn't.
Instead, he shivers with something more akin to anticipation. One day, Reaper will put his hands on him again, and that is thrilling. And while he thinks about it, looking down at the grey, ripped skin of Reaper's hand... he has to hold down that same smile he'd gotten when Reaper had kicked him. They have a common interest, huh - Dodger getting himself killed to satisfy Reaper.
But... right. He told himself he wouldn't be saying weird shit like that. So he clears his throat, trying to keep that smile off his face, and just nods in response.]
[this is a horrible life choice and anyone worth their weight in feathers would be out of here. At this exact moment, as that red-eyed stare fixes on the others' with an intensity that very plainly states that he's a man who would make good on his word.
Really good on his word.
Without another added quip, (as he feels he's gotten the message across) , he gestures with a hand with a nearly sarcastic flair to it--as if to say keep walking to the other, as their destination hasn't yet been reached.]
[Dodger nods quietly, in confirmation of both the command and their understanding. As much as the two of them are capable of being on the same page, at least.]
You know, for someone with a death motif you're not exceptionally cruel... I figured I could have pushed you to kill me by now.
[Turns out he can't help himself from being... himself. Oh well.]
What would I have to do for you to hurt me? I'm curious... because you've only put your hands on me twice. For all the shit I've put you through trying to figure out the limits of your patience.
You're just like everyone else here. You see my self-control and patience as some sort of kindness or grace and it's fucking hilarious how pathetic it is.
[Pathetic, or stupid, honestly. Just because someone didn't raise a hand to you, didn't mean they wouldn't kill you.]
You see that shock collar you're wearing? That's why I haven't killed you, or anyone else in this place. I'm not a damn idiot, and I understand that I'm in a place that puts me at a disadvantage for my usual habits.
Except, unlike you, I don't test those limits to see what I can do before I get someone pissed off enough to try to kill me or leash me up like some sort of hairless dog.
[You can almost hear his teeth clicking with finality, here.]
My patience does have a limit. And I'll advise you to not try that curiosity of yours to find it.
[That just gets a smile out of him, even a lazy little chuckle.]
I don't know if you've noticed but I am a dog. And usually, you don't get pissed at a dog for being untrained, do you.
[He reaches up to curl his fingers around the collar, tugging at it loosely.]
Just because I get off on getting my ass kicked doesn't mean I don't learn from it. It's the lack of consequences that gets me restless - food for thought.
[And they've finally gotten to the bar, so he's pushing the door open with his back to give Reaper an almost sultry smirk, before heading in to pick a spot in the quiet corner.]
Shows you haven't raised a dog properly in your entire life.
[Because the point of training a dog was to get angry at it so it knows when it was misbehaving. He gives a little grumble in return, not feeling he needed that bit of food for thought, but he doesn't make a point about calling the other an idiot at least. Even if he will comment on the first bit.]
Ever think it's because I know you get off on getting your ass kicked that I don't do it?
I'm not into encouraging your bad habits, Dodger. [Ignoring that smirk, too, as he drifts inside, pulling his hood up a little closer around his mask.]
Then stop. All you've done so far is give me a good reason to keep going.
[Look at him draping himself over a chair in the corner of the bar. What an asshole.
An asshole who apparently the staff knows, because a waitress who is holding back the urge to roll her eyes comes over to place a double-shot of whiskey in front of him without even speaking to him. She knows him. Why did she have to work today.]
Have you considered the only reason this is such a painful process for you is because you keep trying to avoid it instead of using it to your advantage? [He sips the whiskey lazily.] The goal here isn't to get hurt, it's to be useful to you. And like I said before, I'm done testing your patience - doesn't take a genius to see that's not getting me what I want. And what I want is for you to use me.
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Instead, he shivers with something more akin to anticipation. One day, Reaper will put his hands on him again, and that is thrilling. And while he thinks about it, looking down at the grey, ripped skin of Reaper's hand... he has to hold down that same smile he'd gotten when Reaper had kicked him. They have a common interest, huh - Dodger getting himself killed to satisfy Reaper.
But... right. He told himself he wouldn't be saying weird shit like that. So he clears his throat, trying to keep that smile off his face, and just nods in response.]
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Really good on his word.
Without another added quip, (as he feels he's gotten the message across) , he gestures with a hand with a nearly sarcastic flair to it--as if to say keep walking to the other, as their destination hasn't yet been reached.]
Glad we have an understanding.
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You know, for someone with a death motif you're not exceptionally cruel... I figured I could have pushed you to kill me by now.
[Turns out he can't help himself from being... himself. Oh well.]
What would I have to do for you to hurt me? I'm curious... because you've only put your hands on me twice. For all the shit I've put you through trying to figure out the limits of your patience.
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[Pathetic, or stupid, honestly. Just because someone didn't raise a hand to you, didn't mean they wouldn't kill you.]
You see that shock collar you're wearing? That's why I haven't killed you, or anyone else in this place. I'm not a damn idiot, and I understand that I'm in a place that puts me at a disadvantage for my usual habits.
Except, unlike you, I don't test those limits to see what I can do before I get someone pissed off enough to try to kill me or leash me up like some sort of hairless dog.
[You can almost hear his teeth clicking with finality, here.]
My patience does have a limit. And I'll advise you to not try that curiosity of yours to find it.
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I don't know if you've noticed but I am a dog. And usually, you don't get pissed at a dog for being untrained, do you.
[He reaches up to curl his fingers around the collar, tugging at it loosely.]
Just because I get off on getting my ass kicked doesn't mean I don't learn from it. It's the lack of consequences that gets me restless - food for thought.
[And they've finally gotten to the bar, so he's pushing the door open with his back to give Reaper an almost sultry smirk, before heading in to pick a spot in the quiet corner.]
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[Because the point of training a dog was to get angry at it so it knows when it was misbehaving. He gives a little grumble in return, not feeling he needed that bit of food for thought, but he doesn't make a point about calling the other an idiot at least. Even if he will comment on the first bit.]
Ever think it's because I know you get off on getting your ass kicked that I don't do it?
I'm not into encouraging your bad habits, Dodger. [Ignoring that smirk, too, as he drifts inside, pulling his hood up a little closer around his mask.]
no subject
[Look at him draping himself over a chair in the corner of the bar. What an asshole.
An asshole who apparently the staff knows, because a waitress who is holding back the urge to roll her eyes comes over to place a double-shot of whiskey in front of him without even speaking to him. She knows him. Why did she have to work today.]
Have you considered the only reason this is such a painful process for you is because you keep trying to avoid it instead of using it to your advantage? [He sips the whiskey lazily.] The goal here isn't to get hurt, it's to be useful to you. And like I said before, I'm done testing your patience - doesn't take a genius to see that's not getting me what I want. And what I want is for you to use me.