[Dodger takes a step back, taking in the sight of him. A part of him feels genuine, positive joy at the blood, the bruising and the panic in the man's eyes. But a large, and rising, part feels guilt. There's a growing panic in the back of his mind, that he couldn't put into words just yet. It isn't satisfying, but it is cathartic.
There's a soft growl before he teleports closer to the door, slams his fist into it and breaks the wood away from the mangled mess of a door handle. He glances back over his shoulder, eyes full of menace.]
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There's a soft growl before he teleports closer to the door, slams his fist into it and breaks the wood away from the mangled mess of a door handle. He glances back over his shoulder, eyes full of menace.]
Not a word, yeah?
[And with that, he disappears.]