Meeting Tarkin

Todd is still reeling a bit from the hollow sensation of soul extraction, scanning for hiding places out of habit rather than drive (it hasn't quite hit him yet that he's not scared and should be), when he hears footsteps. He looks back curiously, not really expecting anyone in particular. He vaguely recognizes the man but, like most people on the barge, Todd's never even bothered to find out who he is. Damn. Well, maybe it's for the best. He doesn't really want to spend this land of the dead thing around any of the very small handful of people he actually likes. He doesn't talk, just shrugs slightly. This is no one's ideal situation.

All-purpose

Apathy and sluggishness are fairly ordinary things for Todd to experience. He doesn't really care one way or another that his soul's missing (and he has no intention of finding it, anyway). The ever-present fear that apparently went off with it is almost interesting, though. Regarding the landscape, the people, the barrage of threatening ghosts without his first and most powerful impulse being to cower does at least give him a chance to indulge his curiosity more than his native cowardice will usually let him. Between that and having no drive whatsoever to reach their destination (and having lost any fear of how badly his escape plan might go along with the rest), he's slow and distracted, pausing to stare at clear and present dangers and weird looking rocks alike as though they were mildly interesting tourist attractions.

Harpy scratching, featuring Max

Todd wastes no time. The first stop to rest, the first moment he's satisfied he can sneak off, he makes his move. Stealth is one of the few things he's reasonably good at, though honed spying for Mystique and committing petty crimes rather than clambering through an unforgiving wilderness. Lucky about the missing soul--he creeps along through the best sneaking route he can find without the slightest regard for safety. He doesn't have much of a plan. Get away from the others. Mainly, away from Max, and the discomfort he feels with the vague knowledge that the man cares at least a bit about keeping him safe. No guilt, though. He'll get a better inmate next time, someone who actually can graduate and get him his deal, whatever that is.

Get away. Find something dangerous. Find out if it really is permanent. That's all.

He found disapproving disdain more comforting than anything else. He expected didn't expect anything better, and at least openly sneering at him made things clear from the get-go. "Guessin' it wouldn't of been no pleasure, yo," he said flatly. Apparently the lack of bone-deep, constant terror loosened his tongue a bit. He usually knew better than to mouth off like that. But he also usually cared at least a little bit about getting smacked, or at least the possibility of sucking up.

While Todd's read on the guy and his general assumptions about the rest of humanity suggested the guy wouldn't care, he kept the real answer to himself. Until he knew more, anyway. "This's prolly the direction we're sposed'ta go." He gestured lazily to the road. "Easy answer, do the bullshit barge thing 'til the jerk in charge thinks we're done." While he had hopes for his escape, he also suspected this was yet another act of random sadism my the admiral, just with more elaborate head games this time.

Todd may be good, but he's an urban operator. This isn't his environment. He's no quite sloppy enough to be visible, but he leaves a pretty distinctive trail, deep imprints from the balls of his feet and the squared smudge of two odd-shaped, webbed hands between them, every four to six feet, with shorter, skittering spots in between.

He'd sort of been hoping no one would follow, that they might not even notice until they could fairly judge it a lost cause. People are generally in a hurry to find an excuse to get rid of him. So far he's satisfied, though. When your only goal is to disappear and hopefully find trouble, it's easy to be content.

Todd isn't a challenge for the ghost population, certainly Vengeance is a problem, especially since he couldn't be afraid of them if he wanted to. The shapes of harpies in the sky are a more distant problem that he doesn't give much thought. It was the ghosts everyone was warned about.

Todd doesn't need to be ambushed by something angry to be caught, though. The ghosts that just want him to stay have no challenge before them whatsoever. It's what he's trying to do. He doesn't respond in time to the first, but the second is painted like Nux and Todd would probably do much more ridiculous things for anyone with warboy markings than immediately follow, abandoning stealth to do as he's told.