Currently lives: Henderson (Seven Hills), Las Vegas, Nevada
Languages spoken: Primary: English | Secondary: Polish
Native language: English
Relationship Status: “Complicated”
p h y s i c a l ❂ a p p e a r a n c e
Height: 5'10
Hair colour: Black
Hairstyle: Uh, fabulous.
Facial Hairstyle: Often clean shaven. Participates in ‘No Shave November’.
Eye colour: Blue
Tattoos: Right arm sleeve. Right leg, tbd.
Scars/distinguishing marks: Scar above left eyebrow from play fighting with childhood friend.
Preferred style of clothing: When not in uniform, classic greaser look.
h e a l t h
Smoker?: No to cigarettes. Cigars, on rare, celebratory occasions.
Drinker?: Whiskey. Beer.
Recreational Drug User? Which?: Weed, psychedelics, anything to take the edge off for a little while.
Addictions: toxic women
Allergies:
Neurological conditions: Depression (mostly attributed to drug use)
Sleeping habits: At least five hours a night, give or take.
Exercise habits: Early morning/ late night jogger, depending on his shifts. Weight training at the gym.
Emotional stability: Known for mood swings.
Sociability: Social butterfly.
Body temperature: 98 degrees, baby.
p e r s o n a l i t y
Label:
Positive traits:
Negative traits:
Hogwarts House: Could sway between Gryffindor & Slytherin.
Theme Song: Borderline | Tame Impala
Character Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, avoiding the law by becoming the law.
Goals/Desires: Grow into a healthier version of himself.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Fears/phobias: The front door of his estate.
Favourite colour: Blue
Hobbies: Ghost hunting. Bon Fires with friends.
Habits:
Taste in music:
e a t i n g ❂ h a b i t s
Eating habits: Newly turned vegetarian thanks to Waddles, Mabel’s pet pig.
Favourite food(s): Not bacon.
Favourite drink(s): Bourbon. Dr Pepper.
Disliked food(s): Bacon :(
Disliked drink(s): Anything with Rose water added.
h o u s e & h o m e
Describe the character’s house/home: Large estate in Henderson (Seven Hills) Las Vegas, Nevada.
Do they share their home with anyone? Who?: Yes. Mabel Pines, friend turned colleague. He also opens his home to friends as a place to crash/safe house.
c a r e e r
Level of education: Bachelors in Criminal Justice
Current job title and description: Patrol Officer
f a m i l y , f r i e n d s & f o e s
Parents names: Mary Hart
Are parents alive or dead? Disappeared/Unknown
Is the character still in contact with their parents? No
Siblings? Relationship with siblings? Sister he hasn’t heard from.
Partner/Spouse: On and off with Rhea Chronos
exes: Allison-- high school sweetheart -- Alejandro Kuzco: Fling in high school turned sour.
best friends: Mabel Pines
Nick Wilde: someone he’d like to get to know better, always seems up to no good.
Rhea Chronos: Sandy & Danny.
Jessica Jones: drinking buddies
Pets: Lazy tabby cat named Ace.
Enemies? Why are they enemies?: Hook. Conflicting interests. Kuzco, undisclosed.
Jack didn’t scare Nick. He was more of a nuisance than anything, an annoying little gnat with handcuffs and an authority complex. Nothing Nick couldn’t handle. Plus, he never acted out on the things he caught Nick doing, but Nick made sure he left almost no evidence, no proof of anything he’d done, no trail. Tonight would be no different. He just happened to have wads of cash in his pockets. That was his business.
“Came for a treat,” was his nearly full-mouthed reply to Jack’s first question, the chocolate-covered banana turning to mush, but also buying him time. “How long have you been watching me? Doesn’t seem like real detective work, if you ask me. A waste of good, hard-working citizen money.” Which was all bullshit, but it flowed from his mouth so easily, leaning on the banana stand with a casual stance to let Jack know his presence had no affect on him. If anything, it was like a meeting of two old pals. Tom and Jerry. Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner.
“Been packed around here, figured I should see what’s going on… what all these people are up to.” Nick had heard the murmurs about some new street drug, and he had been curious about all the word surrounding it, hoping to play his cards right as his head gestured to Jack’s form. “Nothing to deliver, I’m afraid. Sorry to disappoint you, flatfoot.. I’m sure you could use the distraction.” He looked around, cocking his head as he looked past Jack’s baby blues, like they could somehow read his thoughts. “Good thing we’re in the city of sin!” Plenty of distraction to go around. He pushed off the stand, circling Jack slow, stopping as he looked down at the other’s heels, his tone low and intentionally vague. “What about you? Anything new keeping you a busy little bee?”
City of Sin. Classic response from a classic criminal. Didn’t mean EVERYTHING GOES, otherwise they wouldn’t have much reason to have a police force. “You always disappoint me, Nicky. That’s why I keep coming back for more. I’m a glutton for a bad time.”
“Like you said, City of Sin... always something keeping me busy,” Jack replied, tapping a finger to the top of Nick’s nose. “I wouldn’t want to BORE you with all the details, Punky Brewster. Besides, not really my place to be telling slick criminals there’s a new drug on the market-- Oops.”
The drug in mention was none other than Howlers- like bath salts, but worse. Altering people’s minds and behavior. Impulsive, erratic, and over all rage fueled delusions-- sounded like a few of his exes. “But I bet a guy like you already knows about that though. Don’t you? I hear it’s pretty expensive. Make a bigger profit than whatever magic tricks you’re out here doing. You REALLY should look in to it. I hear you can find it North of the strip.” Jack encouraged, though his true intent stemmed from a desire to either arrest him for something he could finally prove, or pick Nick’s brain for how he slid under the radar so easily. Possibly even both. But the way he evaded trouble was....impressive. “Promise I won’t snitch.” That was a lie.
Nick avoided the strip as much as possible, especially during the busy seasons, which lately was bordering on all goddamn 365 days of the year (seriously, it was the desert in the middle of the summer, what the hell.) Whatever marketing they were doing to get people here seemed to be working, the streets as crowded as ever, and as much as Nick appreciated new suckers people to take advantage of, trying to get to his usual haunts was becoming something of a burden. Sure, it meant more people to make him appear inconspicuous, disappearing in and out of the crowds like a phantom, but still. It was a n n o y i n g.
People were still arriving in droves, with an apparent death wish, and tonight was no different. Nick’s pockets were feeling a little too light, something he tried actively to avoid, never wanting money to be something he had to think twice about or worry over, sighing as he accepted his fate, kissing his apartment goodbye for a bit.
Still, despite the noise and clear fire hazard, something about the glittering lights comforted him as he weaved his way in and out of groups of people looking for their next thrill, toothpick hanging out of his mouth, trying to think of where his spot would be tonight. He wasn’t exactly up for a round of blackjack or trying his ‘luck’ at the poker tables, seemingly have been banned from a few, and the idea of the high rollers was out. He wasn’t that desperate. He needed something a little more.. straightforward.
Scamming people out of their money was much easier on the strip, setting up shop next to one of the smaller but still busy stands, flashing people a smile and a promise to dazzle them, hand tricks, giving them double their money if they could prove them wrong, catch him in his lies, feeling the money in his pockets grow as more and more people came by, intrigued by his little sideshow. If this was some old timey cartoon, dollar signs would be flashing in front of his eyes, racking up by the minute.
He stuffed the bills deep in his pockets, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he swiped one of the bananas from the stand he’d set up shop next to, debating if taking off in the crowd was smarter, and he could do it too, but something told him he’d done well enough tonight so far, and he deserved a bit of a break.
“You have a radar out for me, Spade?” he called out, a grin shining on his features as he chewed the stolen produce, pointing his toothpick at the other. “Starting to think so. I’m real flattered.”
Jack had a bug in his ear about Nick Wilde. Sly, slick, and always JUST dodging out of the way of incoming traffic, and most of all trouble. Walking the strip after duty, Jack spotted that head of hair from a mile away. Didn’t really matter what color it was— brown today, but what would it be next week? Suspect to change at the drop of a hat. And even so, Jack would always spot him.
“If it isn’t little Nicky himself,” Jack announced, taking in their surroundings. An overcrowded Bluth’s Original Frozen Banana set up in its usual spot, and Wilde scarfing one down. “You pay for that one?” Doubtful. “What are you doing down this far south of the strip, buddy? Let me guess… a little SIDE HUSTLE may-haps?” Mmm, more likely.
Blue piercing eyes scanned down the length of Nick’s body, noticing a little green bill poking out from the pockets well over stuffed. As usual, Jack was just a few minutes too late. “BIG side hustle, even. What’s it tonight, Nicky? Let’s see it. I’m ready to have my mind blown.”
Jack leaned in a little close to tell him to— “DELIVER.”
