#jeremiah001

[bowieleblanc]

Status: closed @jeremiahthcne​

Bowie doesn’t really know Jeremiah Thane all too well, but it doesn’t hinder their desire to express their gratitude. Even if the man hasn’t helped them out directly in the process of preparing for the storm, he has still been helping others during this stressful time, and that’s admirable enough for them. To say thank you, they caught him momentarily and asked what he liked to drink. It’s not like Bowie has a fully stocked bar in their bag, but they have enough to share and enough to whip up a little, simple something - trying to see if they retained anything back from their bartending days in New Orleans. Rising to their tiptoes, they crane their neck, looking around for him in the sea of temporarily displaced faces. But then they spot Jeremiah, a smile naturally gracing their face as they begin to make their way across the room to him. “Here. I’m known to be a lil heavy handed, baby, so tell me if it’s too strong,” They smile wider, handing over the plastic cup.

[angelway]

Status: closed @jeremiahthcne​

Location: Patchover Party

That’s the thing about indifference, it gives Angel the chance to stand back and watch all of the people who clearly give far too much of a fuck. It would be as awkward as a middle school dance if it weren’t for the fact a good seventy percent of the people here wouldn’t hesitate killing each other at a moment’s notice. Still, for her, it’s fun to watch. Free amusement at its finest. Whatever. I’m just here for the booze, she thinks to herself as she tilts her head back and downs the rest of her drink. Who the fuck cares what she thinks about the patchover? If joining forces stops them from getting their collective ass whooped, great. If it doesn’t? Oh well. 

Angel turns to get another straight tequila, her eyes falling on Jeremiah and doing a sort of double take. She doesn’t know him, but she figures she better start getting to, right? “Hey,” She calls out, moving closer towards him. “You’re the other Thane. There’s like a million of you motherfuckers,” She says jokingly, but it does feel like every other person she meets in this goddamn town is a Thane.

[scthcartcr]

iMessage → Jer

Seth: Got a new one

Seth: Make sure to shit upon or train or whatever the fuck the prospect

Seth: Its our god given right

Seth: Also shes hot so thats a plus

[maddoxxhart]

@jeremiahthane

Although Maddox had only been a prospect for about a year and a half, he’d actually known the Thane family for nearly twenty years. It made things a bit weird for Maddox to treat them more as superiors rather than friends since the change but he did his best, knowing it was best not to take advantage of their generosity toward him. But even then, sometimes he wondered if he was only allowed to prospect in the first place due to his connections rather than real potential. After all, while he was a good mechanic and a decent shot, he wasn’t nearly as ruthless as some of the other members. Maddox knew that wasn’t everything but he still wondered if that would be asked of him one day and if he could do it.

The mechanic sat at his station, looking at his phone since his shift ended and only looking up at the sound of Jeremiah’s entrance, his blue eyes peering up. “Hey, uh, sorry, I’m not on the clock or anything,” he explained, locking his phone and putting it away. “Just was waiting for Sut to head out. You lookin’ for something? Need something? I’m free for a bit,” he offered with a small smile.

[angelway]

Status: closed @jeremiahthcne

Location: a parking lot

Angel and her piece of shit car have seen better days, but they’ve also seen worse. It’s the unpredictable price you have to pay when you paid five hundred bucks in cash for a very used car, but now it’s her very used car. The two, however, are stranded in a parking lot because the damn thing won’t start. In most circumstances, she’d just say fuck it and leave it, but she can’t. That’s her car. And while she does have her bike to get around on, she can’t just leave the car there. That isn’t going to make the problem go away. 

And so she sits on the hood of her car, legs crossed underneath her as she calls out to any passersby who might be of any help. After many failed attempts, that’s when she sees Jeremiah. She doesn’t know him personally, just knows he’s a Thane and they have a few friends in common. MC or not, Angel doesn’t care. He owns an auto shop or something, so if anyone is equipped to help her, it’s more than likely him. “Hey!” She calls out him. “Do you have cables or whatever? Shit’s dead.”

[david-hxpkins-blog]

     “No. No, wait. That can’t be right.”

     His interjection came at the cost of missing whatever Jeremiah had been saying. He had only looked away to what was happening on the TV for a few seconds. When his eyes came back to the game board on the table between them, Jeremiah’s piece was suddenly much further. There was always something suspicious about the way his uncle played these games, but it could have been because David was always itching to win. 

                                             He was paranoid.

And he should have been relaxing on the couch like he usually did after church on Sundays, but an urge struck him on the drive home. Such an urge that left him sitting at the kitchen table playing this game with his uncle, between watching the TV on the counter and talking about whatever came to mind. 

     “How’d you get that far? --What did you roll?”