Lucky was enjoying a brief pause in time, where there were no repetitive training, no check ins with dad and no hunts to go on. Things had felt stagnant and she was growing restless, starting to see her behaviour mimicking her brothers more and more. Cracking an eyelid she peered over at the person that shook the bench as they collapsed into it. Raising a brow she stared at a familiar face before twisting in her seat and driving the flat base of boot into his thigh, trying to shove him off the end of the bench.
“This bench is taken, find somewhere else to sit!”
--
The familiar voice doesn’t come as a surprise, Jayce could recognize Lucky at a distance the same way he was certain that she could do the same to him. The inkling quickly became realized as her boot dug into her thigh, the heel of his own boot cementing him in place as best he could. It was painful, but he was certain that was her point.
“I just got here, you don’t want to be a good neighbor?” Jayce replied back, though maybe that was just as likely to get him a kick in the gut. “Don’t want to make a scene,” he added instead, doing his best to remain nonchalant, though his main intention was not to get the shit kicked out of him. Something he was certain that Lucky could do.
Rowan’s pencil danced across the surface as he sketched out some flash designs, hoping to showcase his talent and specialty: fine line work and illustrative styles. Although he could bend a little on the style, he preferred to not stray too far away, making sure the client was satisfied. A slow day meant time to practice his skill and art. His eyes went up as he saw the front door open, the chime reacting and he set his sketchbook down, “how can I help you, today?” He asked the stranger, walking up to the counter.
Part of the job was research, bit by bit sorting someone out, being curious and unassuming. Knowing more than you showed and working to keep it looking that way. Today meant that they were interested in tattoos. They could have asked Val, but it was Jayce’s preference to sort things out alone and find what he needed himself. Still, he was wary of exactly how much trust other reapers held in him.
“I was trying to decide if I wanted to bite the bullet and finally get a tattoo,” he answered, hands going flat on the counter and fingers tapping faux nervousness. “I don’t have any,” that was the truth, “but I saw this design online and wasn’t sure if I should go with it and just am testing the waters,” that was a lie, the chuckle, as if he’s embarrassed by the request.
Having finished his latest shift at the station, Javi found himself stopping by the park rather than head straight home to his trailer and the silence that waited for him there. At least here he could listen to the sounds of the nightlife that weren’t able to sleep either. What he didn’t expect was someone else finding themselves in the same location at the same time, settling down beside where he had been resting as he nodded. “Not at all,” he replied, though they’d already sat down before the spoke as he felt his lips twitch into a slight smile. “Can’t sleep either?”
--
“Thanks.” Jayce knew that under normal circumstances, letting his guard down was a bad idea. It was the exact sort of thing he took advantage of, but there was also a slight arrogance of knowing that he’d built himself and his life up enough that practically napping on a bench for a few seconds once or twice wouldn’t be the end of him. So he closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the silence, though trying not to feel too comfortable. Actually falling asleep wasn’t going to be the best of ideas.
“Nope, figured that a walk might exhaust me enough to get me back to bed, and I was right.” Following whatever guide the stranger laid out for him was the easiest thing. Jayce turned his head in slight to the man’s direction and opened his eyes again. “You?”
After a long night, the sun was barely coming up, and Jayce was tired. The sort that only comes after nights of not sleeping, planning, and/or stress that just beared down on you. Getting back up to the hills was doable but not if he didn’t just want to collapse in his entryway, so instead he cut his losses and dropped down to sit on the park bench, not bothering a “Do you mind if I sit here?” to the person already occupying it until he was already seated.
Eve’s wasn’t her usual haunt, but with the eggshells she felt the need to walk on in Nicky’s presence, Marley had found herself switching it up from The Drunken Cactus every now and again to give both herself and its bartender a break. A bar was a bar, even if this particular bar happened to be attached to a strip club. There was no judgement there from Marley, who’d just sat down, eyes wandering to the few dancers dotting the stages–more of them than patrons in the place. This once had been Skull’s main attraction, a way to lure locals of neighboring towns to its lair, put money in the pockets of its residents. The buzz around it had all but died by the time Marley had left town the first time around, but her eyes didn’t miss the fresh coat of paint, the shine of new poles, a decent sound system. Upgrades that seemed not just wasted on a place gaining little to no traction, but outside of said places budget.
She hadn’t realized she was staring until the bartender called out to her, turning her head in his direction. Her eyebrows flashed, both amused and intrigued by his customer service skills, before eventually just ordering, “a vodka soda. Please.”
When her drink was set down in front of her, she couldn’t help but add, “seems like a bad business model for a strip club to discourage starin’, don’t you think?” The girls weren’t who Marley had been staring at, of course, but she couldn’t resist the quip.
-
It was certainly an easy place to stare and Jayce himself had been guilty of that a time or two. Bartending wasn’t new but in a strip club was. Usually he stayed away from Reaper businesses just to keep himself well and under cover. Now though, here he was in deep.
“Better than discouraging paying,” Jayce said wiping his hands down on the cloth behind the bar. “Though I doubt I’ll have that problem with you,” though the way he says it doesn’t exactly show his confidence in it. There was a certain level of distrust with new faces, but here in Skull, nearly everyone was a new face.
Perhaps, Jayce supposed, that was why he found a place there at Eve’s. It would help some to be less of an ass. “I’d ask if you’re new around here, but that’s me, so I’ll stick with annoying favorite. You come here often?”
It was for upkeep, having a job at the bar. After a while, Jayce supposed he’d end up somewhere else in town with a different job, but the easiest place to start was always with the Reapers and it was enough for now. He was good at making drinks and the low light atmosphere was nice even if the music felt too loud. It was easier to work as a guy he was certain so Jayce was happy for that.
Even then, there were some things that weren’t exactly in his wheel house and that he didn’t enjoy. Namely the social aspect. “Can I get you something or are you just going to sit there and stare?” he said, looking to get the attention of the person nearby. No drink in front of them but their attention seemed locked.
☽ [ dane dehaan, he/him, cismale ] ☾ [ jayce myer ] has lived in [ the hills ] for [ five months ] now. the [ 35 ] year old [ human ] is the [ assassin ] for the [ reapers ]. but they also make an honest earning as a [ bartender ] for [ eve's place ]. truthfully, they remind me of [ fingerless gloves, well worn doc martins, a glass left half empty, a face obscured by heavy cigarette smoke, and streetlights at night leaving stripes on an empty bed ]. whenever it’s their turn to be the getaway driver, they blast [ wicked ones by dorothy ] on full volume. ☼☼ ooc info; lynn, 29, she/her, cst.
When the Reapers began to be uprooted from California, Jayce kept a close eye, advised as he did, stayed silent when needed. Everything about Jayce was quiet, shadowed, and situated in the dark. He flew under the radar and if all went well, you would never know he was there.
And that was the point.
The Reapers had an important job and to continue it? That was even more important. Jayce knew he strengths. They were in deceit. In silence and in being a ghost. Seeming weak and fragile when needed. It wasn’t the typical way of the Reapers. Reapers had the power and strength to take what they needed and do what they had to.
Hand to hand, most of them would break Jayce without breaking a sweat. They’d done it to other, more powerful people. Jayce’s way was different. He would kill in the dark, not even need to be there. It was less flashy but to him, more refined. More intelligent.
That felt true when the police began to press and dig. They didn’t find him. So for Jayce, it was important to stay and continue the work of the Reapers in California. In the end, he did. He watched in silence when the final nail was driven, the Reapers who weren’t behind bars picked up and ran east.
There was no answer then of where they were going. Over the years, Jayce heard that they made it to Arizona and found a place there. One riddled with supernaturals and it made sense. A town full of them would be the Reaper’s home once they were eradicated. The Reapers would burn through them like the sun burned through the desert.
Years passed and soon, it was time for Jayce to go too. Hurriedly packed bags in the night, cash and cash only finding a place in a wallet. Fake IDs for long enough to travel far enough. It wasn’t starting over when the rest of the Reapers were there. Cash under the table meant a place in The Hills, a good threat or two meant staying there at a great discount.
Eve’s Place was dark and the job good enough and close enough though having stayed silent and staying in California didn’t exactly leave the best of tastes in the mouth of people they all called Family.
But as with everything else, Jayce does what he has to.
