JACK
"Nah, I only bartend on special occasions," Jack drawls. "Every other day I'm this." Cattle-coralling aside, anyway. Gazing up at The Ark with the familiarity and fondness of an old lover - a rare crack in the captain's mask - he watches the way the sunset drenches her ruddy sails the colour of blood and paints fire onto the dark, laquered wood, before turning his attention back to the chaos on the deck.
"Ain't ever brushed with the trickster myself," he mutters of Ludo. "There's a statue dedicated to it in Torchline, though. S'good luck to pay an offerin' before a long voyage, an' I've learned not to disregard dumb fuckin' luck when it comes to the sea." No amount of skill can change adverse weather or creatures lurking in the deep, after all.
While Colt digs through ribbon and fringe, Jack settles on a billowing, light material, black as pitch, that feels as if it would be a suitable (and easy) base for a costume. "Yeah, I ain't usually one for this shit," he admits. "With the Family havin' fucked off, though, any excuse to get shitfaced feels like a good idea."
"Ain't ever brushed with the trickster myself," he mutters of Ludo. "There's a statue dedicated to it in Torchline, though. S'good luck to pay an offerin' before a long voyage, an' I've learned not to disregard dumb fuckin' luck when it comes to the sea." No amount of skill can change adverse weather or creatures lurking in the deep, after all.
While Colt digs through ribbon and fringe, Jack settles on a billowing, light material, black as pitch, that feels as if it would be a suitable (and easy) base for a costume. "Yeah, I ain't usually one for this shit," he admits. "With the Family havin' fucked off, though, any excuse to get shitfaced feels like a good idea."
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
