JACK
"One of the kindest ways I've ever told someone to fuck off too, if that helps," Jack says with a flash of teeth, lifting his glass to Colt in a toast, though it appears she's struggling with her own drink. Raising a brow and reaching back, he plucks up a bottle of tequila and wiggles it at her before setting it back down, as if to offer something more familiar if she doesn't feel like spluttering her way through the masquerade.
"Well, I plan to keep bein' a familiar cloak by the drinks for a bit longer, if you ever want to be told to fuck off again," he advises with a scoff under his breath. Lifting his rum once again as she makes her departure, Jack soon finishes his drink and, indeed, gets back to his people watching. Eventually, of course, he ends up by the fateful cluster of tables with his crew and then, not long at all after that, in the deep dark of the woods.
By the time he returns, cigarette in hand and another drink snagged from a nearby table, the masquerade has continued to tick on, each mind an individual grain of sand spilling through the hourglass that will take them to the end of the night. He senses Vesper before he spots him, a mostly dark spot in a sea of lights, flickering like static.
"I'd know that look anywhere," he says idly as he ghosts up beside him, smirking around the cigarette. "Focus on someone - anyone. Use 'em to get grounded against everythin' else. Y'know, as a treat." Or a break.
"Well, I plan to keep bein' a familiar cloak by the drinks for a bit longer, if you ever want to be told to fuck off again," he advises with a scoff under his breath. Lifting his rum once again as she makes her departure, Jack soon finishes his drink and, indeed, gets back to his people watching. Eventually, of course, he ends up by the fateful cluster of tables with his crew and then, not long at all after that, in the deep dark of the woods.
By the time he returns, cigarette in hand and another drink snagged from a nearby table, the masquerade has continued to tick on, each mind an individual grain of sand spilling through the hourglass that will take them to the end of the night. He senses Vesper before he spots him, a mostly dark spot in a sea of lights, flickering like static.
"I'd know that look anywhere," he says idly as he ghosts up beside him, smirking around the cigarette. "Focus on someone - anyone. Use 'em to get grounded against everythin' else. Y'know, as a treat." Or a break.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong
the weak ones are there to justify the strong
the weak ones are there to justify the strong
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
