how do I feel about this

JACK

hellraiser
risk taker

"An' if she doesn't? An' if the Ascended rock up to our islands an' start fuckin' with everyone we know an' killin' our own? Your bias might be showin', Raza." Jack raises his eyebrows up at her. Whatever she might think, Jack's as bully as they come, and if the bitch he's tied to tells him to kill kids, he's killing some kids.

"If you're lucky," Jack smiles back darkly at her, though his attention is on shaking the rest of the dirt from the boot. Eventually, once it's almost empty, something thunks out of it - a small metal box that looks like it should hold cigarettes. When Jack pries it open, though, there's a load of crimson gems that he recognises as doses of Snapdragon, and a carefully folded note promising a lot more from a contact deep within the Wilds. A new contact - a good one, hopefully.

"Aight, well I ain't plannin' to die today. Let's go."

full speed ahead
'til i'm dead

Raza

“If the Ascended rock up it’s different.” Torchline is their home. She’d defend it and her people till every last drop of blood is lying on the sands if need be. She’d turn the Hanged Man into a trap if need be. But there’s a fine line between needing to and runnin’ off to be some murderous bitch boy.

Raza shrugs. “Maybe. Least mine ain’t tattooed on my face.” Her bias can change n’ shift, but Jack’s stuck for life with Safrin. They both know that lady won’t let her toys go easily. She looks over Jack’s shoulder at what’s in the little box and huhs in the back of her throat. Dyin’ over that. Okay, Amos. “Thing Amos was an addict?” She hadn’t seen the signs on him, but then Snappers were tricky and tended to get themselves killed with those lower inhibitions.

Pushin’ up from a squat, Raza flicks what muck she can off herself before followin’ Jack back outta the swamp.

{Fin}

reppin' a district of obvious misfits