[ Jack’s among the bustling crowd that gathers around the thessyx when they parade through the complex, on their way to meet with Captain Childe. This may be the strangest sight yet. Dragons and spaceships he’d seen in popular media, but aliens? Aliens that look like this? that’s entirely new, and freaking him out a little.
Chewing at the inside of a cheek, his narrowed eyes follow the procession, lingering on the massive shell they have in tow. ]
Call me paranoid, [ Jack mutters to the other hatchling nearby, focused on the shell, ] But ‘Trojan Horse’ keeps bubbling up in the back of my mind.
[ they could be walking in here with a bomb, for all any of them know. Not that he has any reason to truly believe that, besides being jack benjamin, which naturally makes him suspicious of everyone. ]
sinkhole;
[ not a great basketball player, nor a terrible one, jack had taken to the court half out of boredom, and half out of prodding from the older teens looked after by the theater troupe. It wasn’t about satisfying their needling or caring about a bunch of brats eager for his less than congenial company, but he was bored.
It turns out for the best, once the sinkhole suddenly has the ground falling out from under them. Jack had been next to the goal post, waiting to catch a rebound, and next to him, one of the teens that badgered him into playing. The rumble and vibration underfoot triggers a buried memory of rattling earth under tank treads, and distant mortars going off, rocks exploding into the air like shrapnel. Without thinking, jack snatches the back of the teen’s shirt before he plummets to the sinkhole’s depths, fingers clutching in a vice grip, the other arm wrapped tight around the metal goal post.
The ground’s still shaky underfoot, making jack’s loath to shift his weight and disrupt it. but, clinging to a terrified 15 year old in one hand, and the metal post the hoop’s attached to with the other, is not an ideal, or sustainable, situation. ] Stop wriggling.
[ It isn’t that jack’s a particularly nice person, given 10 minutes earlier, he’d bodychecked this kid to score a lay-up. It’s just that he isn’t a completely abhorrent person. ]
Assist, please? [ he calls out to the stable ground above. a small chunk of earth crumbles under his heel and sheds a few rocks, jack feeling the support beginning to buckle. ] Child in mortal peril - hurry up!
wildcard;
[ shoot me a prompt of your own, or hit me up at wuzzafuzzle to plot ]
jack benjamin | kings
[ Jack’s among the bustling crowd that gathers around the thessyx when they parade through the complex, on their way to meet with Captain Childe. This may be the strangest sight yet. Dragons and spaceships he’d seen in popular media, but aliens? Aliens that look like this? that’s entirely new, and freaking him out a little.
Chewing at the inside of a cheek, his narrowed eyes follow the procession, lingering on the massive shell they have in tow. ]
Call me paranoid, [ Jack mutters to the other hatchling nearby, focused on the shell, ] But ‘Trojan Horse’ keeps bubbling up in the back of my mind.
[ they could be walking in here with a bomb, for all any of them know. Not that he has any reason to truly believe that, besides being jack benjamin, which naturally makes him suspicious of everyone. ]
sinkhole;
[ not a great basketball player, nor a terrible one, jack had taken to the court half out of boredom, and half out of prodding from the older teens looked after by the theater troupe. It wasn’t about satisfying their needling or caring about a bunch of brats eager for his less than congenial company, but he was bored.
It turns out for the best, once the sinkhole suddenly has the ground falling out from under them. Jack had been next to the goal post, waiting to catch a rebound, and next to him, one of the teens that badgered him into playing. The rumble and vibration underfoot triggers a buried memory of rattling earth under tank treads, and distant mortars going off, rocks exploding into the air like shrapnel. Without thinking, jack snatches the back of the teen’s shirt before he plummets to the sinkhole’s depths, fingers clutching in a vice grip, the other arm wrapped tight around the metal goal post.
The ground’s still shaky underfoot, making jack’s loath to shift his weight and disrupt it. but, clinging to a terrified 15 year old in one hand, and the metal post the hoop’s attached to with the other, is not an ideal, or sustainable, situation. ] Stop wriggling.
[ It isn’t that jack’s a particularly nice person, given 10 minutes earlier, he’d bodychecked this kid to score a lay-up. It’s just that he isn’t a completely abhorrent person. ]
Assist, please? [ he calls out to the stable ground above. a small chunk of earth crumbles under his heel and sheds a few rocks, jack feeling the support beginning to buckle. ] Child in mortal peril - hurry up!
wildcard;
[ shoot me a prompt of your own, or hit me up at