devilgrin

[devilgrin]

dead air is now airing

>Tommy: Hello, Bayport. It's me your host, Tommy Steele. Tonight, we have a very special guest in the building. None other than our most gracious and favorite charitable local, Jack Wakefield.

>Jack: Thanks, Tom, it's nice being here tonight. I think everyone in town knows how much I care about the community and I'm glad to say that I'm donating to every local food bank in the city. Fall and Winter are coming and it's going to be a very hard one this year.

>Tommy: You're definitely right, Jack. It's been cold snaps every year lately and heating stations aren't enough anymore for those stuck outside in the cold. I'm sure the food banks this year will be happy for the donations, and the good people at Walker Productions who make this show a possibility are also donating alongside you to get the less fortunate folks of Bayport ready for this upcoming cold weather. We'll talk more about that after these messages...

[devilgrin]

"Don't worry, like anyone would get lost following you." Jack smiles, walking behind her. He's not blind, she's a beautiful woman but he's not here to ogle and waste his time. He's slightly irritated about why he's even here. It's annoying to hire someone for what should be easy for him, but sometimes pests show up from time to time that need extra help to get rid of.

His dress shoes barely make a sound following the clacking of her heels. He doesn't bother looking around the casino, he's not interested in anything here. "—It's a nice change of pace seeing a model host when it comes to this part of the Business. I'm used to dealing with subpar accommodations when looking for intel."

a chuckle slips past scarlett's lips, seemingly unfazed by his show of impatience even with the jab towards her precious crown jewel. make no mistake, mind—scarlett is a woman that keeps her score, but she is also a woman of incredible patience. whatever slights jack wakefield has done will rear their heads back to him in due time.

her heels touch the ground as she stands up again, red nails making a show of being gently dragged off the expensive table surface before one hand falls back to her side. languid, almost sleepy. clearly she's not in any rush.

she does, however, give him her time of day. ❛ business it is. ❜ already, she's two steps ahead, chin tipped towards his direction briefly with that unwavering smile, ❛ do try to keep up. i'd be so upset if i have to come back and find you. ❜

[devilgrin]

[devilgrin]

dead air is now airing

>Tommy: We finally got news this evening about what exactly was in those shipments that got intercepted by BCPD. Apparently it's some new kind of inhalant and inhaler that's been making it's way into Bayport's streets for some time. The chief is telling people to be vigilant about it and is concerned about the strain on the local hospitals at this time.

[devilgrin]

He stares at her blackjack and knows damn well she's the one running the show. He almost flips off the dealer b u t holds it in. "That's very cute." Jack says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Y'know if I wanted to get fucked by a casino, I'd go to Atlantic City and count cards there so they can bend me over. At least, I'd get my money's worth, sweetheart." He taps the table, sliding a chip towards the dealer (even if he thinks he doesn't deserve it), he's not about to stiff a service worker.

Jack throws back the rest of the whiskey and gestures towards her. "Let's get going then, I'm guessing you have a room for these things." He doesn't blink once when she says his name. He's not surprised about these things. Hell, he'd be more skeptical of her if she didn't know his name.

the titillating smile pulls at the corner of crimson lips even further at his inquiry, and for a while, she lets it linger in the air as a nail taps against the table surface. two cards. she's not turning them over, opting to instead draw slow, menial circles on them. even with such an idle action, there's still some practiced charm in the way her fingers move.

❛ you don't say. i've heard it's humid this time of year. ❜ the prickling on the palm of her hand due to cold glass goes swiftly ignored as she takes a delicate sip of the whiskey, and then her cards turn. jack of hearts and an ace. blackjack.

a pause. ❛ that's up to you. what's it gonna be, wakefield? ❜ his name rolls off her tongue like a promise, all honey and sugar. ❛ dealer's choice. ❜

[devilgrin]

dead air is now airing

>Tommy: It's now 10:00 p.m., and on top of the hour, we are bringing you some late night news, Bayport City! We're hearing that BCPD finally did their job tonight (sorry, Michelle) as they busted shipments coming through the bay containing illegal substances. What they are, we do not know, but we'll update all of you when we get specifics about the raid later tonight. We're hearing here in our humble radio station that this raid comes from an anonymous tip given to the PD. Very bold to whoever did it, we salute this mysterious civilian helping our wonderful city get these drugs off the street. In the meantime, we'll be back after this short break with more news...

[devilgrin]

dead air is now airing

>Tommy: It's now 3:00 p.m. and the start of our noon show, we're gonna talk about the strange and the baffling, where our reality meets the edge of the abyss. We're opening up the lines so callers can talk about their stories about the strange and unusual that's around our beautiful Bay City.

>Tommy: But first, let's talk about some weird sightings we got today. Strange lights appeared above the Bay last night, they were only visible for 1 minute before they just... vanished. Paired that with the reports about people going around missing, I don't know, folks. I'm not saying little green men are coming to get us, but things are getting real strange around here. We'll hear your stories and answer your calls after these words from our sponsors.

[devilgrin]

"Well, anything to get out of the Texas heat, pumpkin." He taps the table so the dealer can give him another card. Jack doesn't look at her either, but the sight of red hair in the corner of his eye does confirm he's finally meeting the right person, at last. "If someone is good at their craft, it pays to meet them in person. Money is never a problem." He doubts she needs any from the way those heels sounded. She's dressed to the nines.

He sips whiskey from his new glass, pushing the old one to the side. The dealer hands him an 18, they got a 21. "Always so close, but never winning. What a cruel game." Jack comments offhandedly, tossing more chips to keep playing. He finally looks at her," we talking business or we gonna keep beating around the bush. I don't mind either option."

they hear her before they see her—the click of expensive stiletto heels followed by the silhouette of a woman in white, red hair cascading down her back bobbling along with every step she's taking.

a sweet, purposeful hum of greeting, her to the dealer who nods at her without another word. dazzling is her smile when she settles herself next to jack, cherry red nails tapping against the material of the table. there's a server sweeping over to put two glasses of whiskey for both of them, liquid amber sloshing as she takes one between her fingers. and then the dealer starts shuffling again.

❛ you've traveled quite the distance. ❜ she drawls. she's not looking at him, not yet, her attention on the way light reflects on her glass. ❛ quite the effort just to meet a person, hm? i'm flattered. ❜

[devilgrin]

mexicanheaux:

“youre obsessed with yourself” and youre not??? sad. tragic.

[devilgrin]

[devilgrin]

— Louise L. Hay

[devilgrin]

@luscinai

"Oh, that's cute!" He smiles, staring at the blackjack table before sipping more of his whiskey. "You really should be nicer to me, what if I don't tip you?" He pouts at the dealer, like that would make his cards magically be better. But he knows the game is rigged because he's been counting the entire time, two shoes of cards and they're still not hot? Very funny things are happening here.

Jack is dressed in his usual black suit with dark blue wool tie. His tie pin is a very small wasp. He's been nursing the same whiskey cup, it's more water than liquor at this time. He's been patiently waiting for a very particular woman to show up. He's heard she's usually around here, but maybe his contacts were lying? If they were, he'd just dig his fingers into their minds and he'd have two very disposable workers, at least.

[devilgrin]

dead air is now airing

>Tommy: It's 7:00 p.m. and this is your news hour, Bayport City! We got more disappearances around the bay, cops still have no idea what's going on. I'm a little worried, folks! What do we pay them for if they can't even solve this! Ah! I'm getting scolded now, ladies and gentlemen, by my amazing producer, Michelle. She's telling me to move on and y'know what? I will, I like my job a little more than blasting BCPD for their poor police work. I'll see you folks after these ads from our sponsors...

[devilgrin]

— jack wakefield, oc, non-fandom, independent & private.

*warning for triggering content. He is the head of crim org, after all.

[devilgrin]

"OH, OH! You're fighting it! That's cute." He giggled, watching the man fight off the mind control clamping around his brain. "Shhhh, don't fight it. Let your mind just p o u r out. Aren't you tired of thinking? Aren't you tired of struggling day and night to survive? Just let it... tip over."

[devilgrin]

I am constantly survailing you and thats how you know I love you.

[devilgrin]