Post by jackson on Mar 5, 2012 0:19:59 GMT
i saw a shadow of a man creep out of sight. and then he sweeps
up from behind and puts a gun up to my head; he made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight.
JACKSON ALLEN BEDARD
jackson. thirty-nine. male. heterosexual. firetamer. dark. kiki.
up from behind and puts a gun up to my head; he made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight.
JACKSON ALLEN BEDARD
jackson. thirty-nine. male. heterosexual. firetamer. dark. kiki.
Come to bring me back, have you? I'm not surprised. I left Manuka in a state of unrest. I had assumed that my leaving would do it some good for awhile but from what I hear, things have only gotten worse. It seems, in fact, that only the big name players can keep that damned town together. And that's why you need me. To restore some balance. I am among the people who still know the rules, you see. A gentleman solider, as it were. I'm not here to keep the peace; I'm just here to make sure that it's an even fight, yeah? I've got some pride, after all. All of the young ones are in such a rush. As if they didn't have all of the time in the world. It's embarrassing. And so here I come to clean up this mess. Vacation's over. Then again, calling an impromptu work trip a vacation does nothing for my reputation. It's already suffering, both alliances going out of their way to brand me a coward. They say I ran away. That I was mentally unstable. It looks that way now.
If it still looks that way when I'm lounging on my porch surrounded by their charred bodies then I must be doing something wrong.
Of course, that won't be for quite awhile. These things take time, you realize. And the rules. As I said, there are rules. I'll bide my time. And they'll call me coward. There are worse things. But as I tell you this, I notice that you look... perplexed. Apparently, they hadn't explained to you exactly who you would be retrieving. I don't blame them. I've seen things, done things, that a good deal of people don't recover from. For one, I killed my father. Ah, but he was a waste of space. How do you think I acquired these companies? Two of these businesses were owned by my father, one of them sporting his name. The third was just recently acquired on this business trip that you caught me on. I'm a persuasive man. I know how to get what I want. At least I won't be returning to Manuka empty handed.
But I digress. You want to know about my mother. It's the question that most would generally want to ask of me after hearing about my father. She was an unfortunate case. A weak, mortal woman without the gall to stand up to a man that had terrorized his own family for years. She hung herself from their balcony before the fire. And when I say 'the fire' I am of course referencing the murder of my father. There's not much to know after that. I inherited the businesses. Hired a few people who knew what they were doing to take care of things while I figured everything out. And here I am. Now, I am to return to the town that made me. Back to the real world and all of its problems. Back to hearts that I may have broken. No, I'm no womanizer. But I look out for myself. If I choose to leave for business and not tell a soul then that's my prerogative. I am a grown man. Unfortunately, not everyone will find my excuses suitable. I predict arguments. Fighting, perhaps. God, but I've always hated that. All of the yelling. I hope only that no one throws anything. I'm bringing back quite a few lovely antiques. Don't want my spoils to go to waste.
app by kel <3
rp sample
It was primarily filled with humans. But damn it if it wasn't the best place to get a beer amongst company that would primarily leave you alone to your own business. They all stuck to themselves for the most part and when ever someone did strike up a conversation somewhere, it was an interesting conversation. Full of things worthwhile. Not like the talks that you encountered at clubs where the only thing young people seemed prone to talk about these days was what the cast on Gossip Girl seemed to be up too and sex. There was a good deal of talk about sex. Promises of such. Teasing, taunting, flashing; these were all present at a club setting. Jackson couldn't pretend to be entirely disinterested in the idea of sex. He simply didn't have the need nor the desire for it that the younger crowd had. Even as a younger man he didn't partake in the activity frequently. It was unproductive and usually required a lot of work--or money--to obtain, neither or which he cared to put forth just for a little bodily relief.
And so being here, among men and women who had also seen and participated in such activities and found the need for them to be lesser, was comforting. It was simply a nice place to sit and drink undisturbed. The bartender, though human, Jackson believed, was friendly yet impersonal. He didn't ask questions regarding your privacy unless you extended an invite for such conversation. He got you a drink, asked briefly about your day and then went on with his business. It was all very pleasant. Simple. Yes, that word. Simplicity was something that Jackson couldn't say he rightly enjoyed for the most part. But here, at its purest form, he seemed to like it very much. It was excellent when it was done correctly. Simplicity was give or take. It was very easy to overdue which--he supposed--would actually make it a complexity. So perhaps simplicity was always simple and when ever he claimed to dislike it, it was actually a complexity in loo of the circumstances surrounding it? He was overthinking the matter.
But he commonly got like this when he drank. Alone or in company, drinking caused his mind to slow and calm. It found him and made him operate at a level that had him almost more alert, if that made any sense. At least, at first. Once he passed the point of mere intoxication and hit a state of drunkenness that had his words slurring and colliding together in some sort of verbal mess he certainly wasn't any better off for it. At a buzz, however, his senses and thought processes seemed magnified. It was a nice, subtle improvement. He held onto that moment as best as he could when ever it happened. At the moment, however, he was sitting at a table in the corner, pouting at the sheer amount of customers that had crowded the place. There was no room at the actual bar which he actually frequented. And the only table that was open had two empty chairs, two sides of it covered by the walls of the corner it had been placed in. Jackson ignored the inconvenience and instead attempted to settle into that usual comfortable state. He'd make the best of the situation.
And so being here, among men and women who had also seen and participated in such activities and found the need for them to be lesser, was comforting. It was simply a nice place to sit and drink undisturbed. The bartender, though human, Jackson believed, was friendly yet impersonal. He didn't ask questions regarding your privacy unless you extended an invite for such conversation. He got you a drink, asked briefly about your day and then went on with his business. It was all very pleasant. Simple. Yes, that word. Simplicity was something that Jackson couldn't say he rightly enjoyed for the most part. But here, at its purest form, he seemed to like it very much. It was excellent when it was done correctly. Simplicity was give or take. It was very easy to overdue which--he supposed--would actually make it a complexity. So perhaps simplicity was always simple and when ever he claimed to dislike it, it was actually a complexity in loo of the circumstances surrounding it? He was overthinking the matter.
But he commonly got like this when he drank. Alone or in company, drinking caused his mind to slow and calm. It found him and made him operate at a level that had him almost more alert, if that made any sense. At least, at first. Once he passed the point of mere intoxication and hit a state of drunkenness that had his words slurring and colliding together in some sort of verbal mess he certainly wasn't any better off for it. At a buzz, however, his senses and thought processes seemed magnified. It was a nice, subtle improvement. He held onto that moment as best as he could when ever it happened. At the moment, however, he was sitting at a table in the corner, pouting at the sheer amount of customers that had crowded the place. There was no room at the actual bar which he actually frequented. And the only table that was open had two empty chairs, two sides of it covered by the walls of the corner it had been placed in. Jackson ignored the inconvenience and instead attempted to settle into that usual comfortable state. He'd make the best of the situation.
