08-18-2013, 08:48 AM
Wasn't Michael a barrel of monkeys? Like beating a grin out of a fuzz-hat stiff standing guard outside the Tower of London. Not impossible, but Jax wasn't going to hold his breath.
He did bark a laugh in reaction to the invitation though. In the span of twelve hours he'd dealt with a lot of interested parties giving him the ole' one-eye. Michael may not have that certain zombie-like look in his eye, but the guy wasn't without creep-factor. Probably got on splendidly with the ladies.
Jax pat the guy on the shoulder and steered him toward the curb, hailing a cab. "Back to your place eh?"
A black and white checkered cab pulled over. Jax held out his arms and gave an elegant, dancer-like spin as he rounded the car to model the manly bruises, blood and swellings decorating his scruffed hands and whiskered jaw. It was pretty convincing too. Balance and coordination was in his bag of tricks after all. Those ballet-lessons were the first thing little-kid Jaxen ditched-- you know, after he realized those things dangling between his legs were actually important-- but the skill stuck with a kid long after he grew up.
He grinned sarcastically and finished his sentence over the top of the car, "Before you get to blowing me, I'd take a spongebath too. But don't worry, I'll make sure we get the good vodka on the way."
He laughed and landed in the cab's backseat, slamming the door after him.
He spoke to the driver, Russian accent thicker than ever. "Take us wherever this guy says, my good man. But only by way of the best liquor store there is between here and there."
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Aug 18 2013, 08:51 AM.
He did bark a laugh in reaction to the invitation though. In the span of twelve hours he'd dealt with a lot of interested parties giving him the ole' one-eye. Michael may not have that certain zombie-like look in his eye, but the guy wasn't without creep-factor. Probably got on splendidly with the ladies.
Jax pat the guy on the shoulder and steered him toward the curb, hailing a cab. "Back to your place eh?"
A black and white checkered cab pulled over. Jax held out his arms and gave an elegant, dancer-like spin as he rounded the car to model the manly bruises, blood and swellings decorating his scruffed hands and whiskered jaw. It was pretty convincing too. Balance and coordination was in his bag of tricks after all. Those ballet-lessons were the first thing little-kid Jaxen ditched-- you know, after he realized those things dangling between his legs were actually important-- but the skill stuck with a kid long after he grew up.
He grinned sarcastically and finished his sentence over the top of the car, "Before you get to blowing me, I'd take a spongebath too. But don't worry, I'll make sure we get the good vodka on the way."
He laughed and landed in the cab's backseat, slamming the door after him.
He spoke to the driver, Russian accent thicker than ever. "Take us wherever this guy says, my good man. But only by way of the best liquor store there is between here and there."
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Aug 18 2013, 08:51 AM.