I’m not an artist I’m a fucking work of art
"I guess we'll find out. I ain't keen on joinin' any war these Outlanders might pull through their portals, put it that way," Jack muttered, flicking ash from the cigarette and taking a final drag before grinding it out on the stone beside them. No sooner had Raza moved when one of the brutes attempted to tackle the other, sending them careening in their general direction. Jack was already on his feet by that point, itching at the scruff on his chin and heading in the direction she had indicated.
"A fine idea. Not much is new - we ran into a monster out at sea and lost two crew, so I'm in the market for more. Send any idiots my way if you reckon they got promise," he said. "I heard the governor has been hard to get hold of lately too. Ain't ideal for me." Because obviously corruption ran all the way to the top, and Jack liked to check in to make sure all was savvy.
"A fine idea. Not much is new - we ran into a monster out at sea and lost two crew, so I'm in the market for more. Send any idiots my way if you reckon they got promise," he said. "I heard the governor has been hard to get hold of lately too. Ain't ideal for me." Because obviously corruption ran all the way to the top, and Jack liked to check in to make sure all was savvy.
