I’m not an artist I’m a fucking work of art
Jack's eyes flicked up from the scene in the alleyway perhaps a moment sooner than they ought have, as Sunjata entered the range of his telepathy, and he offered the Arbiter a charming smile and a drag from the cigarette. All the while the beating in the alleyway continued. "Somethin' like that," he drawled, exhaling a haze of smoke. "How's business, Arbiter?"
One look at the man told an interesting story, even without the sorts of skills Jack had. His gaze lingered on the bruising that covered Sunjata's neck, eyebrows briefly raising - what the fuck were Ascended bites anyway - before he put his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle directed at the crew. "Enough," he said. Straightening up, the two men caught one look at Jata and offered a respectful nod, before lumbering out of the alley and away towards the docks at Jack's orders.
One look at the man told an interesting story, even without the sorts of skills Jack had. His gaze lingered on the bruising that covered Sunjata's neck, eyebrows briefly raising - what the fuck were Ascended bites anyway - before he put his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle directed at the crew. "Enough," he said. Straightening up, the two men caught one look at Jata and offered a respectful nod, before lumbering out of the alley and away towards the docks at Jack's orders.
