#jacob straker

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♠️ Sure! anyone you want~

SEND ‘♠️’ FOR MY MUSE TO GIVE YOURS A TAROT CARD READING

Straker arched a brow at the sight before him. He was no stranger to the supernatural and bizarre, but he had to admit... his experience was with things more frightening than oversized rodents, no matter their colour. But who was he to deny a customer? 

“Well,” he said upon flipping the card. Upright nine of swords. Gold foil caught the light of the sun, glittering on painted scabbards, “I foresee no mousetraps in your future. Your trouble is one of the mind. But if you allow your fears to rule you, you deny yourself the light at the end of the tunnel. Or the cheese, if you prefer.” His lip quirked into a smile. “My apologies, I just can’t help myself.”

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♠️ ((Challenge Mode: Tara meets Straker. Give the angry lady a reading~ XD)) -FS

Straker eyed the woman sitting across from him as he shuffled the deck. Stern, unforgiving. An expression that said all too clearly that nonsense would not be tolerated. Not his… usual sort of client.

“Forgive me for being impertinent,” he said as he set down the first card, “but you don’t seem the sort of person who would take much stock in cartomancy. Now… upright eight of pentacles.” His lips twitched into a smile. “The card of apprenticeship, marking a time of learning, of attempting something new you have not done before. Fitting, is it not?”

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"Jacob what the HELL kind of group do you lead where you have orgies every fucking week?!" Joshua's tone was one of disbelief, and he glared up at the man, his mouth a grimace. "I should arrest you right here, right now, for such illegal activities, warrant be damned! I'm MORE than happy to take the law into my own hands!" He took out his cuffs, but something within him gave him pause. Shaky hands gripped the cuffs, and Joshua glared up at Straker, as if it were the man's fault he couldn't move.

“The fun kind.” A lazy answer, matched with an equally lazy smile. Straker leaned down to look him dead in those pretty blue eyes, and flicked him on the chin with one scarred finger. “Given how swift you are to pull out those cuffs whenever something gets you hot and bothered, I think you’d enjoy it.”

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Rules: Make you and your character with this pixel art creator Tagged by: @ask-the-fiesta-time-crew

(I have done this before but it was on the old blog, so might as well answer again. I copy-pasted the ones I’m still happy with, and redid the ones I’m not)

Me. Truly a despicable creature.

Ash Fletcher, rated cutest weapon of mass destruction two years in a row.

Michael Conner, the gunship of helicopter parents.

Eric Nye, accidentally stabs people in the back, grows roses over their hastily buried corpses.

Gael Fletcher, had sex in twenty different countries.

Louise Bordelon, fights gender roles, killer robots and the establishment.

Jaime O’Donnel, knows what you did last summer.

Jacob Straker, drank the Kool-Aid. All of it.

And an adorable bonus!

Tagging: eh, if you see this and think it looks fun, go ahead.

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(Come on Jake, you’re not even trying to pretend you’re not the bad guy.)

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Fortune Favours the Brave

scene setting │starter: @ask-the-fiesta-time-crew​

He said he’d never come back. And yet, there he was. Such pretty little lies Joshua liked to tell.

Lips peeled back from teeth that were too white and too straight. Straker smiled at him across the square as his hands dealt out the cards, the motion smooth and practised. He didn’t even need to look any more. Guided by fate, he liked to tell the gawking tourists, though the reality was far less interesting. Ten years doing the same thing in the same spot and it was written into his muscles.

But there was one person here at fate’s behest, and he was blind to it.

“Are you going to stand there and stare all day?” He called. And his words carried, carving through the wind and the rumble of waves at the seawall. Like there was no crowd, no tourists, no chattering children. Just them.

The smile sharpened. “Come, sit with with me for a while. Your fortune, perhaps?”

The powers that be brought him here for a purpose, and he would ensure he stayed to fulfill it.

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INK for straker

SEND ME A SHADE OF COLOR FOR MY OC(S) TO ANSWER

“My life in one sentence? Hm.” 

A curious question. And not one he’d given much thought to before. Straker picked at it, turned it over in his mind like a an odd knicknack as he shuffled the cards. “I wasted so much of it… lost, searching for things that neither mattered or had meaning, until he found me, and gave me new meaning and new purpose—a purpose I still serve.” His smile glittered. “Does that answer satisfy you?”

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😇 Straker. Suffer the consequences of your actions

SEND 😈 TO TURN MY MUSE INTO AN EVIL CHARACTER FOR A DAY

“Do you think he’d, like, notice if I like, scribbled a big dick on his table?”

“I don’t think that’s wise, it’s probably the sign for some sort of curse.” Ash frowned and tugged Jaime away from the stall by his hood. It looked unattended… but looks could be deceiving. “Besides, he could be anywhere.”

And speak of the devil. Ash and Jaime each let out undignified squeals as the man himself popped up from somewhere behind it, stumbling over each other in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. “Good morning!” Straker said, politely ignoring their distress. “It’s a lovely day today.”

“W—what?”

“I said it’s a lovely day today. Don’t you think?”

The boys shared a confused look. What happened to the mysteriousness? The general aura of menace? The distinct, unsettling feeling that he was just waiting for the opportune moment to leap on them and peel off their skin? Even his smile looked… genuine. Or maybe it was a trap.

“Stay back, I got this,” said Jaime, puffing out his chest as he pushed Ash behind him and reached for something in his pocket. It—a marker. It was a marker. But this didn’t seem to perturb him, even as Straker’s eyebrows creeped an inch closer to his hairline in bewilderment, and he pointed it at him with a flourish and declared, “EXPELLIARMUS!”

Nothing happened. Of course. Straker blinked, reigned in his escaping eyebrows, and held out a bowl of wrapped candies as a peace offering. “Toffee?”

“Damn, he knows my weakness.” Jaime immediately shoved a hand into the bowl. “If I, like, start foaming at the mouth, like, please call an ambulance.”

Neither of them really knew what to make of this inexplicable shift in personality. But it was pertinent to take advantage of it while it lasted, and they were content to eat the entire bowl of toffee while the fortune teller prattled on about all the nice tourists he had talked to.