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[jasperclark-blog]

moonknightspector :

“Hell, you’re asking me. I don’t know what year it is most the time.” His remark was followed up by a genuine snort of amusement. That I’m an asshole feeling was quickly dissipating and he almost let himself be comfortable, but he couldn’t. The eyes weren’t on him as frequently, but his body was still taut and ready to go if he needed to. The man across from him…Well, he was doing a pretty alright job making it easier. Marc didn’t know much about what relaxing meant, but the guy’s easy smile might have been something close. “Yeah, yeah. Windy City. Why I’m here…?” I’m dead to everyone there and everyone there is dead. “Had a falling out with family…I think. I didn’t have a good enough reason to stay.”

“I did something like that. Once. Never stopped moving, never looked back much either.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and held his chin for a long moment before he spoke up again. “Not having any strings keeping you somewhere? It’s not so bad after awhile. You’ve seen more of this country than I have, though. I feel stranger here more than than I ever did when I was overseas.”

“It’s 2015, right? I don’t think I could take more time nonsense.” Just thinking about it gave him one too many headaches, whether it was science documentaries or a physical trip back ( again ). “Aw shit, I’m sorry about that, pal. Family’s one thing that is never as clear as it seems. Good thing about nowadays: you can make your own family. I’ve picked up a few on the road that’s as close to family as anyone related by blood. I hope it works out for you though -- tough shit.” 

That was definitely one of the good parts about moving place to place: nothing kept him down, and that meant he was living exactly as he wanted to. He nodded his head in return, grateful the other man put it in words. “Once? You stop doin’ it then? You finally picked here to settle?” The city was as good a place as any, he supposed. “What was different overseas?” 

Blood and Chocolate || Open

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mcskedcvil :

“I hope so too. Though it’s growing increasingly more likely, I’m afraid.” Cheery, Matt. Really well done. He sighed, laughing dryly and draining a good fraction of the bottle in hand. “Well, I’ll be sure to let you know if it ever comes to some kind of abrupt stop. That is, if you don’t hear widespread celebrations first.”

“Aw, maybe. You think things’ll get better? There’s only so much crime people can commit before growing bored, right? Maybe good deeds will be the next big thing.” That would surely be something to see, and he grinned at the thought. “I’ll be keepin’ an ear out for that one.” 

[jasperclark-blog]

Oscar Isaac in Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)

[jasperclark-blog]

☮, ღ, ✺

☮- How much your muse worries about appearance?

Not very much! He doesn’t have a consistent access to a mirror, and that’s how he prefers it. Most mornings, it’s a miracle if he brushes his hair. Other days, it’s fair game. Good luck, world. 

ღ- Sexuality?

A raging bisexual – like…raging. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

✺- Something your muse finds pretty

When people help each other out, he tends to think it’s beautiful. Jasper is a sucker for a good deed, and he has 100% cried at commercials where it shows people Being Good. As for something he finds pretty, he’s a sucker for any shade of the sky. Having light manipulation gives him a real appreciation for how the sunlight casts different shades of color upon it. 

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⌨ ✎

⌨- How often does your muse use the computer?

Surprisingly, not very often. Jasper’s only real access to the internet is on his phone, and he is leaving that behind way more often than a grown man should. He’s a mess basically, and he would probably say something about how people should pay more attention to each other. 

✎- Can your muse draw? How well/How Bad?

Naw, Jasper can’t draw, although if you asked him, he would definitely say that he can paint beautiful abstract works. ( They look like someone smeared goat’s blood on a canvas and called it art. He doesn’t it more for therapeutic reasons. )

[jasperclark-blog]

doctorbannerisms :

@jasperclark

This, Bruce thought, feeling bullets whiz by his head, was exactly the kind of high stress situation he needed to avoid.  It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to place himself in the crowd in support.  These people, his friends, almost family now, if he was being honest, had done more to support him than anyone had in years, and it seemed the least he could do was be here today.  He might not be standing up there with them, but he figured being present at all was a step in some kind of direction.

He should have known that something disastrous would happen, and the second the first shot rang out, Bruce had a decidedly selfish and depressing thought.  That no matter how many innocents get caught in the crossfire the one with the biggest body count is going to be him, because Hulking out right now in the middle of this many people could only end with scattered body parts and would prove to the world he was just the monster many of them thought he was.

“No,” he growled to himself, just a hint of that Other Guy’s patented growl in his voice.  He could feel it coursing through his veins, but he held it back, forcing him/it back into  the cage. Doctor you’re a doctor became a bit of a mantra as he held the other guy back, ducking down out of the line of fire and pulling civilians down with him. “Stay down,” he urged them to the ground, making them harder targets.  

He found a girl with a compound fracture of her ulna, not from a bullet, but from the wild panic of the crowd.  He soothed her the best he could and wrapped her arm as gently as he could, praying she can get to a hospital before the whole thing gets infected.  Bruce winds his way through the crowd like this, ripping makeshift bandages and trying to stop bleeding, cursing lightly under his breath when he finds those that are beyond help.

He may always be angry, but he’s angrier still seeing this, because if someone had a bone to pick with all of them, why did they have to do it in public, and the Other Guy felt harder and harder to keep back.  The bullets never seemed to stop flying either, and while Bruce trusted his friends to take care of it, he wished they’d get a move on.  

It happened when he was crouched over a young mother who had a bullet graze by her forehead.  Bruce felt someone else approaching, another man who seemed to be helping people as much as possible, and Bruce felt strangely grateful and momentarily less cynical about mankind.  "Just a graze, I think.  Can you hold her head up for me?“ he asked, keeping his voice soft, because Bruce was scared even raising his voice now would push him over the edge.  He ripped a little more fabric off the arm of his shirt, and was poised to wrap it around the woman’s head.  

At first, he was sure the shot fired was just another that whizzed by his side, and he looked up to the man across from him, worried he’d see a bloom of red across some part of his anatomy.  There wasn’t though, and that was when he felt a dampness at his side.  Bruce never knew if the Other Guy was to blame for weakened pain response, or if the adrenaline of the situation made it hard to process the trivialities like what was going on with his own body.

He put his hand to his side, and he could feel it start to happen, felt that control start to slip away.  There was something almost triumphant about the roaring in his head, like the Other Guy was happy he was unlucky enough to get injured so he could come out and play.  Bruce winced then, the pain of trying to push it all much more than the apparent hole in his side would ever be.  "You might want to run,” he managed to choke out through clenched teeth.

Jasper liked to think of himself as a man who could offer a smile in most situations -- this, however, was most assuredly not one of those situations. Chaos reigned; chaos thrived; chaos almost won. He had next to no experience with things like this. His knowledge was nearly petty when people were bleeding out, but he tried anyways. Anything was better than just leaving people to suffer alone, and when he found another doing the exact same thing... Well, he hadn’t completely lost his smile, even then. 

Doing as the man asked ( why the hell was the guy so familiar? was he on commercials or something? ), Jasper knelt beside the woman and tilted her head upward, whispering a whole lot of nothings to calm her down. He could almost feel the race of her heart, and he made sure the air around her was bright and shimmering. ( Yeah, his mutation felt next to useless in a place like this. ) “Look at that! You some sort of----” His question was cut off by the sound of another gunfire. 

It was when the green flashed in the other man’s eyes that Jasper was able to place who he was. “Oh,” he stated, as if that one syllable accurately summed up the entirety of the situation they were in. “Look, pal, you help people, yeah? Could you keep doin’ that? Just for like...five minutes?” Offering about a hundred different prayers to the big man upstairs, he continued his plea. “I’m not leaving, not that I much could if I wanted to. Have you tried breathing exercises? I hear they do wonders.” 

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snapshot-wardo31 :

Some days you just can’t win. This was one of those days for Wardo - it didn’t matter how many records within the League he’d just broken, his team still had its ass kicked. Bad. As a Captain, it was frustrating but as a player in general it was just infuriating, because they’d gone and done their best and still. He knew, sure, they weren’t going to win all 80+ games in line but it’d be a lie if he didn’t say he wanted to. Leaving the game debriefs and walking back home seeming just as depressing since he was in no mood for partying. Maybe just a pity party. 

He’s walking home, cap buried on his face when the reporter across the street gets to him and honestly, honestly, why this now. It’s not all that surprising there’s a fly like that on Brooklyn but it’s bad enough. He walks away as fast as he can without effectively running and turns into a corner, ducking behind the closest car. Maybe he is too big of a guy to be doing that but clearly he’s not above it. It’s the curious gaze of a passerby that makes him clear his throat, shamefully looking back. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, to hide from someone else.” No one asked but he’s saying anyway.

“Should I be hiding too, or am I good to just stand out in the open like this?” Glancing around, Jasper tried to place exactly what it was the other man was hiding from. ( God, there better not be another invasion or somethin’ -- it was too damn early in the day for that, and he hadn’t even had his morning coffee yet! ) “Better question: should I be looking another way so it doesn’t seem like I’m talking to a car?” 

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cassielectric :

There was a childish wonder in her eyes ( one she thought she’d lost out on having ever again ) as she watched the lighting change around them. The journalist in her, along with the mutant who often projected onto others in hopes of finding people like her, was more than tempted to ask how he’d done it, but she refrained until he’d finished. She chuckled as he pulled the card from behind her ear. “Definitely not. How’d you do all that?”

“Would you believe magic?” He leaned close, as if about to spill all the secrets. “It loses its charm if I tell you, I’m afraid. Gotta keep the mystery alive.” Leaning back, he grinned and set about cleaning up his small station. 

[jasperclark-blog]

roi-de-cinetique :

“So I’ve been told.” Remy purred. “Though I’m sure it’s nothin'ya can’t handle.” He winked. He was charming, that Remy. It was part of his power.

Finally Remy stopped. “A'ight, pick a card.”

“I’ve known way too many circus performers -- I’m sure I can handle this.” He tapped his finger against his chin as his gaze fell on the deck, and with a quick motion, he plucked one of the cards up. “Now what?”

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plxntisms :

     “Fair ‘nough… Just kinda keen on finding somewhere that I        won’t freeze my ass off.         Darwin, Australia. You a local or somethin’?”

"That might be pretty much anywhere nearby -- global warming, and all that.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Australia’s a shit ton more interesting than anywhere I’m from. I’m not so much a local as someone well experienced in the cityscape.” 

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xjessicaj :

Jessica had to concede the point to the man, although she had no idea how much normal people could drink. She shrugged, as if saying it was not a big deal at all. The man then smiled and she couldn’t help but let the sides of her mouth tug slightly up - not exactly a smile, but not something unfriendly either. “I have someone who worries about me and I’ve been far away from her from months now because she shouldn’t be worrying. You shouldn’t, as well.” Jessica commented, bringing her cup to her lips but staring at the man for a moment before giving a sip and putting it down again. She let one corner of her mouth go up at the man’s next words. “And I’m Jessica. And maybe not complete strangers, but you still don’t know me enough to be anything but.”

“Aw, that must be fuckin’ torture for the both of you -- and I promise it’s not gonna make her worry any less. Of course, it’s not exactly my place to say, is it?” She had the hero type written all over her. Who else would leave their friends behind so they didn’t worry? It almost brought a tear to his eye. “Good to meet you, Jessica. Just you wait: we might be best friends by the time this is through. ‘Course, we might also remain as almost strangers.” 

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mcskedcvil :

The comment had him cracking the smallest of smiles, brows quirked just slightly. “Not anymore, though?” Matt shrugged, bringing the bottle to his lips once more before answering, words placed carefully as they so often were. “Just one of those days.” A cliche response though it was, he couldn’t find the energy within himself to conjure anything of any gravity.

“I hope to God I never have to find out.” He nodded, even as he grabbed hold of his won drink, tilting it in the direction of the other man. “Seems people have been havin’ one of those days for the past two years -- wonder if it’ll ever slow down.” 

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thetelepcth :

Charles waved a hand dismissively, as if saying that the man was being too humble. “It is difficult to surprise me, but I know how to lock my mind away when I want to be surprised.” Charles explained, as if it would say everything about how he got so excited about the man’s trick. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Jasper.” He chuckled as he let go of the man’s hand. “Actually, yes. And what was my surprise when I felt a mutant around? Also, your trick with the card is very impressive.”

“Of course -- the intricacies of a telepath, who knew?” He was so wrapped in his own mind half the time; he couldn’t imagine being so connected to everyone else. “Holy shit! You can feel other mutants? That’s more impressive than any card trick I got for you. You do anything with that, or you just like makin’ friends?” 

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moonknightspector :

“D’you keep track of the days you cry? Like how some people count calories?” His new companion talked and carried himself much easier than he did himself. Part of him had to wonder what that was like. The man became apologetic and Marc waved his hand dismissively. “No, it’s fine. I get it. I get that sort of response a lot. It keeps people away and minding their own business instead of mine.” Well, shit. The guy had just apologized for nothing and now Marc had definitely given him a reason to think he was an asshole. Most of him didn’t care, but a small part of him considered the man’s general kindness and rethought his silence. “…Not that I mind this or some shit, you’re fine. This,” he gestured between them. “Is fine.” He nodded along with the man’s statement. “It’s a little different in Chicago. People don’t usually care unless you give them a reason, but some days…People care a lot more than usual.”

He looked over his hands and tugged off his gloves to slip them into his pockets. Less red visible. It wasn’t anything he’d usually be interested in adjusting, but it was something. “Thanks,” he grumbled. “I’m not well informed on the positive attitude bit you’re talking about, I’ll try and take pointers.” It was sarcastic, but with no ill intent. “Yeah?” He couldn’t fathom it. He’d done questionable things across state lines, but hitchhiking with friendlies was something else. “Change of scenery or for another reason?”

“Truth be told, I hardly keep track of the days. It’s...Saturday, right? But if I owned a calendar, you bet your ass I would keep count of that.” He was back to grinning almost immediately, brows raised as the other man gestured between them. His retort ( something definitely charming, he was sure of it ) fell to the back of his mind as Chicago was mentioned. “Oh! You from Chicago? What the hell you doin’ in NYC? I always imagine the two competing for who could put the most garbage on the street fastest.” 

It was strange to hear those words in a non-sarcastic lighting, but it was refreshing all the same. At the question, Jasper gave a slight shrug. “A bit of both. I tend not to stay in one place long. Home’s the open road, and that’s how I like it. My claim to fame remains the fact I’ve been to all fifty states at least twice. I know, I know -- pretty amazing stuff.” 

Blood and Chocolate || Open

[jasperclark-blog]

this picture of oscar and domhnall at an anti-a.i. protest is my single favorite image currently in existence 

[jasperclark-blog]

whitenoisc:

The grin was instantly matched; even without empathy a smile from another instantly lit up his features - it was why he’d smiled so much as a baby; everyone around him seemed so happy, he soaked it up like a sponge. “Neither? I’m just way too fond of tea for my own good and, apparently have a habit of boiling too much water.” Avery offered with a soft laugh, gaze flickering upwards from the ground and settling upon a spot by the side of the other occupant’s head. Without another word he disappeared into a room tucked away at the back of the library, returning moments later with two steaming cups of tea and several sachets of sugar. The author took a seat beside the other man, offering one of the cups. “Seems like you were planning to stay for a while,” he pointed out quietly, gesturing to the pile of books.

“That’s fair. Boilin’ too much water is a pretty good blessing if you ask me -- especially when you boil the hell outta it.” Chuckling at his own joke, he nodded grateful when the other man returned with two cups. Jasper began pouring more sugar than was necessarily required, humming in delight as he took his first sip of the tea before answering. “Oh yeah, probably into the night. Gettin’ kinda chilly out there, and I’m not much in the mood to go home. I was hoping if I fell asleep surrounded by books that I’d dream about at least one of ‘em.” 

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roi-de-cinetique:

Remy laughed. “Nah, no fear. Always carry a deck wit'me.”

Remy smirked and placed a finger on the card. He let a small charge tap into it, making them spark slightly. He moved fast enough so they didn’t explode.

Jasper had to contain his laughter at the little show -- it was exactly as he would have hoped from someone with such confidence. “I’m gonna guess already that you’re a little more than meets the eyes, yeah?”