i want to work on threads and stuff but my brain is not agreeing with me today on the putting words together front so i’m gonna keep it light until i can relive some of this stress, yeaa
goes to play episode 3 again i love this cheeky motherfucker !!
lllllike for a starter ? they’ll take me forever and will be super improv but HEY that’s half the fun right
All in all, Jack’s little radio advertisement had gone off without a hitch (it was working even better than the contest he’d held in Overlook; turned out people would believe anything they heard on the radio), and wannabe vault hunters were piling in from all over the galaxy. Most of them had been easy to get rid of, but some of them, he took a more personal interest it. Axton was one of the six. Ex-Dahl military turned bounty hunter, or so Angel had told him. This one would be a bit harder to remove.
He studied the monitors showing footage of the ex-soldier’s various captures, sitting back in his chair and taking a drag from his cigarette before punching some buttons on his Echo device. The train was headed out to the town of New-New Haven (he wasn’t going to call it Lynchwood unless Nisha was in earshot and could do something about it), but he had some time to make sure his plan was working.
“Hey kiddo, Handsome Jack here. I’m contacting you personally, to tell you that I’ve got a spot on my team that needs to be filled, and guess who’s gonna’ fill it. That’s right, you! Gotta hand it to you, the way you handle bandits is– let’s just say it’s impressive, and we could really use a guy like you, y’know. Hunting vaults. So, whad’dya say, champ?”
Under normal circumstances he would speak his mind, but, with a gun against his head, the warm metal of it nestled against the back of his skull, he was having a hard time finding any words at all. The dirty bandit sonuvabitch had snuck up on him while he’d been distracted strangling the life out of one of his buddies, and was now shouting something unintelligible at him over the sound of distant gunfire. Other than that little nitpick, Jack was having a fabulous time. This particular bandit camp had never looked better, what with it being on fire and everything.
A gunshot rung out, echoing against the metal walls of the nearby buildings and Jack had to whip his head to the side when the splatter of blood and grey matter sprayed towards him, coating the entire left side of his mask. He made a loud, affronted noise as it dripped from him, sticky and red and all over his favorite jacket.
“Seriously, babe?! This is going to take me weeks to get out of this fabric!!”
He stood over the body he was perched over, shaking his hands in an effort to get as much of the gross off of him as possible. He grumbled when it didn’t work.
“What took you so long anyway? What if he’d shot me, huh? Then who’d sign your paychecks and have awesome, amazing make-outs with you.”
Vaas doesn’t respond to the whistling and to the way Jack is very clearly checking him out. He’s wearing that shirt to please Jack, sure, but Jack should already know how Vaas reacts to flattery regarding his appearance. He doesn’t respond to them. He can admit the shirt looks good on him, though. It’s tight-fitting, and he’s been in a healthier shape these past few weeks. He grins at Jack, grabbing the jacket from around his waist. He looks great with it off, but he doesn’t bother saying it because Jack already knows. How ‘bout that narcissism, huh? Vaas is certainly not judging, though. He’s alllll for people believing in themselves and reaching for their dreams and all that bullshit.
“Wow. I thought you were fucking around about the fruit basket thing. Thank you! Really. I fucking mean that shit. I appreciate it, annnd I appreciate you.” He does during moments like these. When Jack is giving him a hard time?? There’s nothing he wants to do more than to blow him up. He takes the basket from Jack’s grip too, leading him to his room and away from everybody out here. It’s loud all the time in the compound, but that’s why Vaas has thick walls. He needs peace of mind here and there, and he always hides away in his room when he needs everything to be fucking silent. He brings Jack in, shutting the door behind both of them and grabbing a bundle of grapes from the basket. He eats them right off the stem, motioning Jack to sit down on his mattress. It’s on the floor, so it’s not exactly King treatment, but at least it’s comfortable and large. He exhales heavily, sitting down across from the other man, his joints and matchbook already set nearby. He’s not a fan of sharing, buuut he’s okay with sharing with Jack, especially after he was sweet enough to bring him fruit. Vaas loves that shit.
“You look like you seriously need to relax. This is the mild shit, but it works well on relaxing. You already know this. I have anything you might want, but I really suggest this. Loosen up those muscles, handsome.” He lights up one of the joints, taking the first inhale from it and then passing it over to Jack. If he wants to do something rougher, then Vaas isn’t going to say no. He genuinely fucking wants Jack to take it easy for at least a few hours, though.
Vaas appreciating him makes Jack feel giddy and he laughs before he can stop himself. (It’s affectionate, and very unlike his usual point and mocking laugh.) He quietly follows Vaas, observing his compound along the way. The noise of it is infectious, and then it’s nothing but silence when the door is closed.
Jack takes stock of the room, an eyebrow raised high, but sits down anyway, his face still skeptical about the state of the place. When Vaas sits, pulling up his stash, Jack huffs and scoots closer without any regard to Vaas’ personal space. (Or maybe he does, and he’s just violating it on purpose. He’ll admit he’s wanted to climb the man like a tree since he showed up in that friggin’ shirt.)
“Can’t argue with that, now can I?” He watches the bandit take a hit, licking his teeth and taking the joint when it’s offered to him. He admires the curling smoke for a second before putting it to his lips. “Hmm, When in Rome.”
He breathes in deep, smoke unfurling into his lungs and he holds it there for a second, letting it go with a whoosh through pursed mouth. It’s a very different taste to his cheap cigarettes, but he can feel the haze from it settling over him and he sighs, muscles relaxing slightly. He eyes the man across from him, his already scarce inhibitions lowering and feeling suddenly cheeky, He takes another quick drag and leans toward him in a flash, grabbing the back of Vaas’ neck and pulling him forward until their mouths are pressed hard together, the smoke twisting into the heated space between them.
A quick ‘thank you, sir’ hung on the tip of his tongue. As far as he was concerned, if the words sounded even remotely like a compliment, he ought to just accept that it was the best he’d ever get. You did not meet Handsome Jack in the seat of his power for the sake of being complimented. You wound up in that office because somewhere along the line, your fuck-up reached his ears and piqued his attention enough to warrant a face-to-face meeting. S H I T.
The patents.
Oh god, he knew about the patents. At that very moment, all Rhys wanted was to sink through the floor and escape his boss’s simmering wrath. Everything was beginning to look like a threat. Nothing more so than the golf club that Jack was referring to. The one that would soon find a new home in his cranial cavity, if he didn’t talk FAST. “Oh, uh, yeah. About that, you see –”
How to tell your tyrant of a boss that you plain forgot to acquire the patents, lesson one. Do not, under any circumstances, tell him that you Simply Forgot. Death was certain, in that case. God, Rhys hoped that he wasn’t going to have to cut off his pinky finger to prove his dedication to Hyperion, at this rate. He only had one flesh-and-blood finger left, and the cybernetic one would be too difficult to chop off without making a mess of his circuitry.
He mumbles: “They pulled the agreement from the paperwork, glossed over it with some fancy wordplay that made it seem like they were still handing the patents over and I missed it. It was a cheap move, and I walked right into it.” There, that’s his story. A common one. A simple one. Probably nothing that would win him brownie points, however sorely he wanted to point out that his follow-up not only landed the patents but would make up the revenue lost within five months.
Above all, he does not beg. But, Rhys’s eyes do keep flicking to the golf club, and he shifts in his seat as though he’s getting ready to duck the fuck out of the way if it comes swinging at him.
Jack tongues his cheek to keep from laughing too hard. Meetings with employees are always so hilarious. The idiots are always shitting their pants at every little move he makes. It’s gold.
“Yeaaah, so you got played like a fiddle.” He tilts his head and waves a hand in a ‘eeeh’ motion. “You lost a little moooney, but hey. We’ve all been there, right?” Weaving false hope. He hops down from his perch, fingers ghosting over the end of the golf club. “The only thing you’ve got left to do now– is make aaaall that cash up to me.” He stalks towards the seated man, tone going from feigned nonchalance to something low and dark. ”Every. Single. Cent.”
And before Rhys can say another word, Jack winds back an arm and decks him right in the face, the force knocking Rhys from the chair and onto the polished floor. He shakes off the pain from the ring scraping his knuckle, (no doubt it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did on the kid’s face) and keeps talking.
“See, when someone owes me something, I prefer to take it from them myself. I could just sell you off, but I doubt you’d fetch anywhere near enough. But I’m sure we can work– something out.”
“Howdy partner.” the purr echoed from her lips. Spinning the pistol back into its holster snugly, amber eyes fixated on her claim. Licking the blood off the side of her maw, a wicked grin replied to shouts of irritation. The gunslinger didn’t respond, merely sauntering over to the distraught male before her. “Then you’d be dead-” Her fingers reached out, thumbing at a splash of blood staining his skin. “And I’d be outta a job- not to mention short of one mouthy boyfriend.” Her laugh was sultry, amused by the notion; what was his definition of amazing, anyway?
“It’s your own fault for wearing a suit to a duel, sides-”Her voice trailed off, grabbing his jaw roughly between her index finger and thumb. “I think you look better covered in blood.” Fingers pressed themselves tighter into his false flesh. “Wouldn’t let you die just yet, cowboy. After all, we still got people to hurt. So ditch the jacket or something, all those layers are slowin you down anyway.”
She knows his hangups to leaving being any of his “precious” suits, many a time she being scolded for dirtying them up with mud or whatever else caked onto her fingers after a nice brawl. This is no different, and yet she can’t help but crave to drive the nail under his skin. What could she say? She liked getting him hot and bothered in more ways than one. “Or are you too scared someone’s gonna put a bullet between those handsome eyes of yours to finish the job~?”
Jack pulls his lips into what is most certainly not a pout and squints a glare in her direction, leaning down when he’s grabbed so he’s slightly more eye-level with the cowgirl.
“Well what else am I supposed to wear–” He says, exasperated and under his breath. He suddenly has the mental image of himself in her outfit, and he quickly quashes it down. He’d stick his tongue out at her, ever the petulant child, but he doesn’t want to get bandit blood in his mouth.
He smirks, lost in the thought of ‘Why yes I do look amazing covered in blood, don’t I?’ until he remembers that they are indeed in the middle of a bandit camp and there are indeed more people to murderize. Jack’s already feeling hot and itchy from his little strangling session, and the Pandoran heat isn’t helping matters, so he takes her advice and starts to strip off his ruined jacket, leaving streaks of gore as he struggles to get his other arm out.
He yells triumphantly when he gets it off and makes a show of tying it around his waist and posing for her with his hands braced on his hips, bloodstained face held high. The distant gunfire is still rampant, and he can hear bandit screaming and gun loaders and he’s just– he’s just so happy.
“Scared? Me? Psssssh. I’m not scared. I’m far too important to die.” This time he does stick his tongue out at her, as he readies his gun and saunters past her towards the raging battlefield. If she notices him slow down to let her pass to go first, he’ll never admit to it.
Jack had severe kleptomania as a kid, and it’s something he never really grew out of. Nicking little shiny things, coins from distant planets, sparkly rocks, marbles, anything he thought he could get away with. He kept them all in a little box beneath his floor boards, hidden away where his grandmother wouldn’t find them. They never had any real sentimental value, but they made him feel like someone important. Someone who could afford to have a bunch of useless stuff just for the heck of it.
He doesn’t do it as much nowadays, but he did have quite a relapse while he was dating Moxxi. He’d always play dumb whenever various bits of her costume jewelry went missing. (It was always the cheap plastic stuff; Moxxi always kept her real jewels hidden safely away. You could never be too careful on Pandora.) But when Jack’s feeling particularly antsy, he’ll swipe whatever he can get his hands on (a pack of gum, a rogue bullet from Nisha’s dresser, some sentimental trinket from the desk of an employee), even when he’s got enough money to buy a diamond pony. He never keeps any of it, but it scratches an itch somewhere in his conscious. Most of the time he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.
that feel when you can’t sleep because you’re nauseous af from eating too many cookies and have the intense urge to write aus even though you’re supposed to get up early in the morning to see about a job yeLLS
my clone jack bab angry + ready to FIGHT
Hyperion Yellows
lllllike for a starter ? they’ll take me forever and will be super improv but HEY that’s half the fun right
would anybody be interested in some like, 10$ character commissions? any character (im iffy with ocs tho) i just wanna buy video games whines so loud
i’m working on a sample, i’ll post it in a bit!
ok here’s what the 10$ commissions will look like
color + full body (if im on my game), also paypal only pls!! (my paypal is fleetarts@hotmail.com, make sure that it’s payment for goods & services and to put no address needed!! )
send me an ask if you’re interested? i won’t be posting any of these anywhere so i’ll upload them via imgur and send them to you that way!!
I spent like 5 hours trying to get my game to work and as soon as it does a fucking spider crawls across my ceiling to ruin my goddamn day so yes I think Jack would absolutely be ridiculously scared of spiders like “whY ARE THEY SO TINY WTF I’D TAKE A BADASS VARKID OVER THIS” but i hunted that shit down like a true warrior also i am never going to sleep again rip
helios’ hydroponics division is doing reeeally well lately, i stole like, an entire box full of cherries while the scientists weren’t looking. they’re kinda weird though. maaaybe i was actually in the genetic splicing lab instead of hydroponics ?? oh well who cares, they are mine now and they are friggin’ delicious
i’m pretty sure im trippin’ out on these but more importantly who wants to have a seed spitting contest
or, better yet: a contest to see who can do that cherry stem thingy with their tongue the fastest
/sticks tongue out at you…….
you better put that thing away
unless you plan on usin’ it
Available for S&M and kicking anyone’s ass at tying cherry stems. Also Birthday parties.
i’d be very interested in seeing you do all three of those things at once
What. I don’t know what’s happening but I’m in.
mutant fruit but also i’m inviting you to a party. in my pants.
“You’re the one who issued the invitation. Consider this my RSVP.”
AGGRESSIVE WINKING.
now it’s really a party
don’t be gentle with me
That can be arranged for the right price if you want a private show.
Unless you know anyone who’s birthday is coming up.
let’s just pretend mine is. besides you know how much i love throwing money at you. and also cake !! c’mon, you can’t argue with cake
Sounds like a challenge, handsome.
But if we’re pretending, it should be my birthday. You can jump out of a cake all dressed up~ I know how much you like that cowboy getup. Heck I’ll even let you choose the frosting.
hell, it can be everybody’s birthday, babe. so long as there’s me and you and a bottle of something luuudicrously expensive, i don’t really care which one of us jumps out of a cake. i am loving the chaps idea though. aaand now i’m wondering if they have frosting flavored lube. look at what you’ve done !!
i couldnt goddamn help myself
sorry babe, you know how work is. but also– yes, yes i do
gonna write up some universes (including dimension au w/ asthehero and my clone!au jack so I can start playing with him more) tonight but i’m here if anyone needs me !!
that feel when you’re trying to write an au for an episode that isn’t even out yet
for those of you who don’t know, i miiiight have opened a tear in the universe a couple months back that leads to an alternate one. and by ‘i’ i totally don’t mean my secret ai control core had a malfunction and started ripping holes in space-time with crazy alien powers. it was totally me. and i can go visit my super awesome, sexy, other me, asthehero, anytime i want. not for very long, mind you; turns out the universe reaaally doesn’t like it when you mix your peanut butter with your chocolate, no matter how delicious it is. but at least my echo line works through the tear, so suck it !!!
that’s great and all but i think you could have phrased it better than “mixing your peanut butter with your chocolate”
shuddup i was hungry
and i hate porridge
how are you hungry if all you do is vacuum up every single sweet thing you see
you’re just mad i won’t eat you too
Two of you? Just need to add the doppelganger and we’ve got a fun night on Helios ahead of us.
i like the way you think, baby
you might need to bring the extra handcuffs though
That’s fine, I’ll just eat /you/ instead.
a-ah, uhh– fuck i don’t have a good comeback to that other than ‘yes please’
Aww, you’re soooooo cute. I want to strangle you.
mmm, you really know how to sweet talk a guy, don’t you
I know how to do a lot of things. With my mouth, and with my hands, and with my fingers. But who cares, right? Juuuuust a bandit.
okay i see you fishin’ there and i’ll give you what you want. not juuust a bandit, my faaaavortie bandit. i like you, what else do you want from me, here !!
What do I want?? What do you want? You are the one whining, not me. I don’t even think I believe that whole my-favorite-bandit bullshit. I don’t know, baby boy.
you wound me, how many other bandits do you think i like?? hint: you’re the only one. and that’s saying a lot because usually i hate bandits. take the compliment, kiddo. also i am not whining!!
i know what i want. it’s you, me, and happens to involve a lot of tongue and mutual strangulation. so just truuuust me for once and we’ll have a good time, ok, pumpkin?
I know exactly what you want. The question is whether you’re going to ask nicely for it.
I’ll also accept begging pretty.
pretty please with a mutant cherry on top?? i dunno that sounded pretty bad to me, maybe you should help me practice
is it hot in here or is it just me, oooHHHH
You’re still eating those things? [ PAUSE… ] Yeah, that was shit, you got to mean it, darlin’.
Less ‘pretty please’ platitudes, more… On your knees, looking needy.
i-i, uuuh– would there be any point in playing hard to get right now or should i just. come up to your office. instead… .
aaaand violently remembers why i don’t have an art blog anymore
Darlin’. Jack. [ tsk tsk ] I am never against a little playing hard to get, but. I’m not here all night.
You can play all you want. Makes it twice as fun to wear you down and exhaust you.– but, why go through all that trouble before we get to have any fun?
don’t you darlin’ me. (ᴘᴏᴜᴛs) ffffffine. c’mere and fuckin’ spoil me already i’m frickin’ dying over here.
