“Rihanna I know of. But that’s about it, darlin’.” He pulled out his trusty pack of Camels, digging in his pocket for a light. “Guess that’s good for you, then. Why can’t you just go buy another foundation?”
“Or the perfect way to get killed,” Jack remarked nonchalantly as he tossed the butt of his cigarette. “This is New York City... home to hundreds of PSYCHOS. Could’ve easily put some drugs in that food.” While he held a some distaste for this particular method, what with his secret line of work, he decided not to express so aloud.
“Fenty?” Jack looked up from the ring he’d been twisting around his index finger. “I have a sister, but I’m still pretty clueless about makeup. Sorry ‘bout your problem, though.”
“If I’m gonna kill myself, it’s not gonna be by Marlboros,” he remarked in a slightly muffled tone as he lit the cigarette between his lips. He inhaled deeply, sharp blue eyes following the girl’s movements as she ranted. “It lasts as long as you decide to be complacent. And clearly you refuse to accept this––” he gestured as she had “––as your fate. So just DO it. Do something that’s worth something.” He blew out a few wisps of smoke, which the wind carried away into the night.
Jack watched her step out of the car, nodding in understanding as she explained her lack of expertise when it came to cars. “At least you know you need to get it done and bring your car in,” he said with a shrug. “Some people don’t even realize they need to, or don’t care enough to bother with it, and then you have to get your WHOLE engine replaced like that guy.” He gestured at a Nissan on the other side of the garage as he spoke. “Y’know, I could show you how I do it, if you wanna figure it out on your own next time.”
Jack shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, today’ll work. Oil change isn’t as demanding as an engine swap, so no hassle.” He offered a crooked smile, glancing towards the garage. “See that opening? Just drive up on in for me.” After instructing the hesitant young woman he began walking back over to the inside of the garage himself, grabbing his rag to wipe any additional grease from his hands as he watched her car.
He found the woman before him intriguing with her unusual, yet rather entertaining way of interaction–– he didn’t mind engaging with less reserve than he might have with other people. "Strawberry it is,” he decided with a hint of a smile on his lips, eyes subconsciously landing on the somewhat protruding stomach under her little apron. The sight drew an impulsive comment from his lips, an old button somehow pushed, and he added, “Difference between me and Hamlet is while I’m a little indecisive about milkshakes, maybe–– I wouldn’t hesitate to KILL anyone who took away someone important to me.”
Jack slowly lifted his eyes from the page he was on to take in the almost amusingly intrepid waitress, folding his hands under his chin as he gazed at her with calculating blue hues. “I was gonna ask which you’d recommend, the oreo or the strawberry milkshake–– BUT I don’t want to seem indecisive now.”
DAMN. Another car pulling into the lot when the garage was already dealing with an overflow of customers that day. Jack didn’t usually have to do much repair work himself these days as the service manager, other than monitoring the work of the other employees and checking on customers. But he’d been forced to take on some a few tasks with the influx of customers recently and he was already growing frustrated with the transmission repair he was undertaking–– while another customer meant more work, having to go greet them was a good excuse to take a short break.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” he inquired as he approached the car, loud enough for the woman to hear through her open window. As he stopped beside her door, he tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and squished it with his boot. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Surprised I’m literate?” came the slightly muffled and rather dry remark, directly aimed at the person Jack had felt BORING holes into his head as he sat and scanned the pages of his favourite reread, Hamlet. “What was it, the grease stains, or the ugly gash on my cheek that made you wonder if I even graduated high school?”
“Don’t see how that can be considered a prank,” Jack said in a flat voice, blowing out a few wisps of cigarette smoke. “It’s not like spice cabinets are ever arranged anyway–– unless you’re just really fuckin’ WEIRD and had yours alphabetized or whatever.”
“Son of a bitch!” Macky slammed the ticket back down on the bar after she read it. She turned to the person closest to her, her anger boiling past the point of professionalism. “That cocksucker just raked up an eighty-three dollar tab — all the cheap shit, too — sat for three fucking hours, stared at my tits the whole time he spoke to me, was a dick the whole time, and he didn’t even fucking tip me.” She threw her apron down on the counter, absolutely over with how her night had turned out. “I need a cigarette — come with me,” she meant it as a question, though it came out more as a statement with her frustration still on the tip of her tongue.
Jack swallowed the last sip from his beer, setting the glass down on the bar with much less force than the enraged brunette beside him. The male’s eyebrows barely twitched upward at her foul language, and he remained silent throughout her entire tirade. “Sounds like more of a command than an invitation-- but I could use a smoke break myself.” Jack slid off the barstool and reached into his shirt pocket to tug out the pack of Camels, already sticking one between his lips.
i thought i saw charlie hunnam in queens, but it was just jack roman. the 35 year old is a contract killer/mechanic. he identifies as a heterosexual/cismale. most people around new york think he’s easygoing, but if you catch them on the wrong day, they may come off as a bit callous.
it’s summertime, i got my hat on backwards, and it’s time to fuckin party
jk it’s winter, i’m freezing, and it’s ya girl mary finally using my babe charlie hunnam for a muse i’m rlly excited to play!!
he’s obviously a mechanic slash contract killer. he doesn’t kill because he likes it, though he did grow up in a somewhat violent and immoral home so it doesn’t quite bother him as much as it should, but he takes jobs to bring justice against guilty and terrible people. he would never kill an innocent person. v is his alias (get it roman numeral cuz roman?? also i just rlly love v from v for vendetta oops)
he has mild antisocial personality disorder because of the trauma he experienced growing up that adds to this somewhat callous, emotionless side of him. despite being a little more reserved, he’s generally an easygoing guy and can be somewhat charming and humorous at times. but generally he’s pretty focused, thoughtful, and careful.
his main goal is to get revenge on his father for the shit he went through growing up, he thinks it may bring him closure.
my mans can cook !! he grew up having to take care of himself and his younger sister most of the time so he has skills most people wouldn’t imagine him, let alone a male, to have. adding to this, he has a soft spot for women in general, though is perhaps not the best candidate for a serious relationship. he prefers hookups, one night stands, though he is not disrespectful of women at all.
he is also pretty well read which most people would also not expect of him.
he smokes too much for his own good and is kind of a mess but i hope you’ll all enjoy my bb!
theartofmadeline
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
2087
vaporwave
