double bubble disco queen headed to the guillotine

[hjack69]

WHO: Handsome Jack and YOU (and people)
WHERE: indecisive hand waving
WHEN: waving continues
WHAT: Catchall for any and all dumbass shenanigans he gets into + a few open starters.
WARNINGS: L... anguage..., suggestive content in the first prompt?

A ( misfire )

Look, we can do whatever the hell you want. Roses, Frenchy douchebag restaurant, repeatedly complimenting something other than your abs (nice abs btw), anything! Whatever. I'm game.

Except for that.

[ he is absolutely not waxing his legs, Christine.

fuckin misfires. ]

B ( and welcome 2 tha jam )

[ Sometimes even Jack needs to let off steam in ways that wouldn't fly anywhere else - he says he likes the workout, but really, he likes shoving and chin-checking and throwing elbows, and you can't get away with that in a lot of places.

Unless you play basketball. Dirty.

There's a court in the park he comes to sometimes, and he's there right now, shooting hoops by himself. No reading glasses, no snappy outfit here; he's got the tank and shorts combo going on, hair hanging haphazardly in his face. It's getting dull, though. There's just no edge when he plays by himself.

So hey, random pedestrian, you're getting a basketball tossed at your head. ]

Think fast!

C ( wildcard )

[ Hit me with anything or contact me privately at my plurk which I still can't remember how to link. ]

Comments

Ardyn

[hjack69]

[ That basketball court from before? It's where Jack tells Ardyn to meet him later in the evening, citing their "experiment" rather than saying "let's sock each other in the face and see if it does anything". When Ardyn finds him, he'll be leaned up against the chain link, playing on his phone.

He's in fucking sunglasses. At night. ]

[daemonized]

[Ardyn shows up about the time he's expected, standing out like a sore thumb on a basketball court, of all things. Still, he approaches Jack with the same attitude he always seems to carry -- utterly casual, a bit flippant, and definitely amused.

Also, sunglasses, really?]

Been waiting long?

[hjack69]

Aaaaages. [ Jack pushes off the fence, sunglasses left hanging at the neck of his shirt. ] If we're gonna do the cliche movie line thing - have trouble finding the place?

[ For a guy about to get punched, he's in a great mood. ]

Don't powderpuff me, now. I hear my strong jaw is one of my best features.

B

[ripplebeat]

[ Joseph cuts through here sometimes, typically walking through the middle of the day when there's games already going on. Despite not being very sports-ball inclined, he catches the ball that's whipped at him, grin all wolfish on his face. ]

Thought fast. Now what.

[hjack69]

Now you either play ball with me, kick off a game of x-treeme dodgeball, or run off whimpering.

[ Jack sets a hand on his hip, all cockiness and confidence. All three of these sound like perfectly serviceable options to him. ]

Gotta warn you though, I'm puh-retty much a basketball god? Like - Space Jam.

I'm basically the monsters in Space Jam, I wreck so much shit.

[ripplebeat]

[ The only times Joseph has played basketball was when he was in middle and high school, and was forced to do so.

How obvious will it be that he doesn't play much? It's not like he can just ... back down. No, that's just about impossible for him.

Regardless, he busts out laughing at the Space Jam comment. ]

Yeah, I can kick your ass if you want. I puh-retty much don't have anything better to do.

[ That ... might be a lie, but for Joseph, a challenge is a challenge and he's not about to bow. ]

a

[gnasher]

[GO DIRECTLY TO JAIL]

what's that?

[he should have said "who's this" but what the fuck?]

[hjack69]

What, you don't remember? We just talked about this, like, yesterday. Remember I told you it was too painful?

I mean, I'm as into pain as the next guy, but THAT? nah. nada. nope.

[gnasher]

you're embarrassing yourself

[AND ME]

A ( misfire )

[arahoushi]

[Wow, this is the second flirty invite he's gotten. Toshi's more popular than he knew.]

Really? You'll do the roses but not the romantic walk on the beach? Not good enough.

[He's also not above a joke.]

[hjack69]

waht

[ A pause. ]

who is this

slam bam thank you ma'am (b)

[frostythehitman]

[ If Jack is dressed for a sports game, then James is most certainly not, currently wearing his usual spiked collars and baggy chain pants. But, he's always ready for a game--thanks to the football team, James has ample training in catching balls. Even when taken by surprise, he catches it with ease. ]

What am I supposed to do with this?

[hjack69]

I mean, sometimes you can do this--

[ Miming a dribble here. ]

Orrrr this one--

[ Miming a three point shot. ]

Or this, if you don't completely blow.

[ Miming a totally ridiculous tongue out slam dunk. He straightens afterwards, cracking his neck. ]

You play ball, kid?

b of course

[furtherforward]

[Playing dirty's one way to catch a guy off-guard, but it's completely unnecessary in Akira's case. All of that height is just for show, no matter how the stereotype of "tall guy = basketball player" goes. If Jack had stood in front of him and laid out his intent fair and square and even gave him a complementary countdown before the toss, the result would be the same.

Akira can only think fast, but that's it. His thoughts have a lot to do with how much he hates this guy for involving him in his stupid game and how he should really, really move. He tries to duck out of the ball's way, but he ends up getting a basketball to his forehead. His hands fly up to nurse his poor head, and Akira emits a horrible, gurgling hiss like his larynx houses the gateway to hell.]

What are you doing?! [He shoots a glare at Jack and sucks in a air through his teeth.] Say something before you throw something at my head. Better yet, neeeever do that again!

[The basketball rolls to a stop at Akira's feet.]

[hjack69]

[ Jack watches the entire production with a kind of sick fascination, because wow is that kind of ridiculously sad, even to the point where Jack feels kind of guilty.

Then the kid looks pissed and Jesus Christ what is that expression god help him. Also the Amityville gurgling isn't helping. ]

Uh. Sorry? Thought you were, uh - y'know. A basketball guy.

[ Because he's tall. stereotyping!! ]

b!

[antagonize]

[The warning comes too little, too late. This random pedestrian isn't thinking nearly fast enough, which means that Jason is turning around just in time to get smacked in the head by a basketball. Jack gets to watch the poor, unfortunate ball bounce off Jason's head and then make its way back to him.

Oops.]

Oh— dude! [RUBBING HIS HEAD?? THANKS, BUDDY.] What the hell?!

[Walking past the court was a mistake.]

[hjack69]

Wow, literally half this city can't catch for crap.

[ YEP. This is his apology as he comes over, scooping up the ball on the way. ]

No offense. Kinda came outta nowhere atcha, huh?

Grell

[hjack69]

[ Jack gives Grell the head's up when he hits the waiting room, trying not to fidget while he waits for her - not big on hospitals, he admits over text. The guy at the desk looks like he's about two minutes from asking what the hell I want and if he talks to me, I won't be able to not look at his lazy eye. Hurry.

He'll be sitting in one of the chairs when she finds him, knee bouncing anxiously. ]

[erythristic]

[she's gotten one of the doctors to agree to lend her their room for a short while through a combination of being sympathetic while they regale her with the trivial problems of their life and by carefully asking without revealing what it was for. not the most authorized, but she's not dragging someone who might as well be a stranger down to where she actually works until she knows they know where they're headed.

so she sends back a quick i'll be right there and gets upstairs. she remembered him vaguely from the bar crawl once she thought about it - it's enough to give her an idea of what he looks like along with his profile picture. with luck, she hopes, he won't remember her being there.]

Jack? I'm Dr. Sutcliffe.

[approaching him, she offers out a handshake - she'll at least keep being a professional in public.]

Karkat

[hjack69]

[ The time and directions come in the evening, not so late that it's dark but definitely after dinner - Jack works late, apparently. His directions point Karkat towards the workshop area attached to his lecture room or something I have no idea how colleges work, where he can find Jack sitting on a table nearby, flipping idly through a book.

When he hears the door, he lifts his head and sets it aside. The book, not his head. ]

They didn't give you crap at the front desk, right? [ A low scoff. ] They usually don't when I'm involved. Pre--tty sure it was the visit from the fire chief that made them stop asking questions.

[alienates]

How the hell do you know the fire chief?

[ karkat's first assumption is because jack got into so much trouble that everyone involved in law enforcement just know him now, but that seems like too obvious of an answer?

he walks over, setting his bag on the other end of the table. ]

c

[tearable]

[ With everything happening over the last few weeks, it's a shame that Elizabeth doesn't have the sick days to just ... call out. She comes to work, masks her confusion and goes home. It's a cycle that repeats until Elizabeth starts staying later and later at work. Her whiteboard has equations on it, trying to piece together time and scientific logic. It's truly something that makes no sense and she knows it — it's long abandoned by the time she gathers her bags and leaves. The click of her heels on the floor mean nothing when she's the only one around, but when she hears a few strings of cursewords coming from the classroom nearest to the elevator, she stops.

Jack.

Elizabeth wants to go home to a warm bed but groans, dragging herself to the classroom. Peeking in, she hopes to God he's not indisposed or being problematic. The door creaks — ]

[hjack69]

Shit! Friggin' crap-ass piece of -- junk --

[ That's Jack, not bothering to keep his voice down now that it's pretty much just him in the building. He's cleared out the little workshop area they've set up, littered with mechanical parts of impossible-to-identify make and model, much less purpose; half of them look custom. Jack himself has his sleeves crammed up around his elbows, glasses and jacket deposited safely nearby.

He's a little slow to look up when he hears the door, fighting down a yawn. ]

Hola. [ A glance at the clock. ] Damn, Liz. You finally just give up and move in?

see below

[puffing]

( this thread in one video. )

[ Bigby has since healed from the events of the blackout and no longer requires the assistance of a sling. he's also re-acclimated himself towards the taste of other brands of cigarettes, although his penchant for nonexistent Huff 'n Puffs means that he has been smoking far less. in an attempt to reverse his aversion towards humans in general as of late (and with the urging of his wife and daughter, most likely), he has decided to make an attempt at being social.

everyone makes mistakes, it seems. because he's decided to go out at night with Jack of all people.

as much as he likes to shit on the guy for his decisions and hobbies, Bigby owed him one for bringing him to the hospital the night of the car accident. they could also use a night of drinking that wasn't 1) one or both of them being shitfaced and Bigby's shoes getting thrown up on or 2) talking about daddy and mommy issues. whether or not Jack isn't actually shitfaced already remains to be seen, but the detective has just started drinking by the time they get settled at Cabin 11.

sitting at the bar aside his supposed "buddy", he ordered up a bottle of tequila for the professor and a bottle of whiskey for himself. ]

That's what you like, I think. Or maybe your taste fucking varies based on your mood. I don't know. Take it or leave it.

[hjack69]

I'll take that as a "here you go, this makes us even, Jack."

[ Jack has to admit, getting the call threw him off - after their last drugged-up conversation, he wasn't entirely sure Bigby wouldn't dodge him for the rest of existence. But he doesn't, and now they're here, where Jack slides the bottle over to himself. He raps his knuckles on the bar, gets the tender's attention - get him the most expensive whiskey, I want to one-up him, Jack explains, then sits back with a shit-eating little grin. He's not drunk. Doesn't even look like he's started today, minus the small amount his body needs to keep functioning at this point. ]

And it does. Man, this stuff is - [ Let him unscrew the cap and forego a glass, just tipping the entire goddamn bottle up instead. ] - this is the stuff that gets me in trooooooouble. Brown liquor makes me wanna fight for some reason, so I stick to this stuff.

[ Another drink. Dear god. ]

What about you? Got anything that screws with you too much to drink?