sixwordstories | (no subject)

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roleplay

(no subject)

[In a bar, time to relax.]

[ His elbows hit the bar top with a thump, the leather of his jacket making a noise of protest as he levers himself up into a stool. There's blood on his tank top but not on his skin and he ignores the other patrons in favour of ordering a drink in rather brusque fashion.

It's only when the bartender goes away that he sees the look he's getting to his right. Instead of being normal, Jace merely grins and turns his head. ] My agent tells me pictures should be paid for.

[If the noise didn't capture Five's attention the comment definitely did. He gives the guy a casual once-over, noting the blood on his top and significant lack of it anywhere else, his only thought is maybe he just got lucky in a bar-fight and he's definitely not Triskelien and thus not an immediate threat.]

Agent, 'm gonna guess you're not a model, considerin' they'd never risk their face gettin' into fights.

Or maybe I'm just remarkably quick on my feet.

[ Drink delivered, he picks it up and downs half of it neatly. ]

[He chuckles lightly. Knowing he'd still be infinitely quicker.]

Guess that's a good thing, y'seem like the kinda guy that'd freak if y'got a face injury. [Yeah he's being an ass, something about the guy doesn't seem quite right to him.]

I'm unlikely to ever find out. It's just one of those things the universe will never know.

[ He nods at the bartender to bring him another, emptying his first glass quickly. ]