hoperidesagain (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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logah2016-06-09 04:50 pm
hoperidesagain) wrote in logah2016-06-09 04:50 pm
Entry tags:
A Broken Man, And A Broken Bond | Closed to Jane, Dirk and Feferi TW: Blood
An often seen sight on the campus of Skaia U. had been missing. A food truck that was practically infamous for it's filling, cheap food seemed to have disappeared, and was not able to be found at any other popular eating spots in the city. There was no sign left, no explanation anywhere to be found...and if one was to try to contact the owner either at his home or even by phone, you'd receive no response. Vanished in a heartbeat, almost done too well to be anything but practiced.
Jake English was gone.
A memory of the past, a battle that brought him down to the lowest pegs, and relationships to those he held dearest collapsing all around him. Hope had always been an important part of who Jake was, far before he actually ran on the stuff. But he was out of it now. Completely drained, and refusing to take any from someone else. Why? He didn't deserve it after all. What use could he put it to anyway? This city had heroes far better than him, and he'd only get in their way.
He had wracked his brain to try to find some way to actually help out people he'd still consider important but just knew they wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore...and he realized, they all have lives. The battles they face will be those of monsters and creatures beyond what people could handle. But there was always crime on the streets that'd need helping with, and Jake could do that. He'd just need a little courage.
That's where a bit of drinking got him into trouble.
The man was currently fighting a group of muggers who had just tried to jump him, dark green handkerchief over his face as if that was a good enough mask. He didn't really care, eye bruised and blood darkening the cloth as it ran from his nose. Two of the men were already knocked out, and the third was trying to just run by this point. "C-Come on man! We've all gotta eat, you know how hard it is out here!"
While he'd usually make some quip or remark, there was only a dark look in his usually bright green eyes. The color had somehow changed to just...black. But if you knew the man, you'd recognize him. He was dirty, beaten and bloody, and looking sickly...but this was Jake English all the same. He jumped on the man without mercy, a flurry of punches knocking his lights out without much more trouble.
Jake stumbled to his feet, leaning up against the wall of the alley and lifting his mask to spit blood out onto the ground. The night was still young, and he'd have more trash to clean up before he was done, he was certain. He could even hear someone walking nearby...maybe it'd be sooner than he expected, black eyes focused forward and preparing himself for round 2.
Jake English was gone.
A memory of the past, a battle that brought him down to the lowest pegs, and relationships to those he held dearest collapsing all around him. Hope had always been an important part of who Jake was, far before he actually ran on the stuff. But he was out of it now. Completely drained, and refusing to take any from someone else. Why? He didn't deserve it after all. What use could he put it to anyway? This city had heroes far better than him, and he'd only get in their way.
He had wracked his brain to try to find some way to actually help out people he'd still consider important but just knew they wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore...and he realized, they all have lives. The battles they face will be those of monsters and creatures beyond what people could handle. But there was always crime on the streets that'd need helping with, and Jake could do that. He'd just need a little courage.
That's where a bit of drinking got him into trouble.
The man was currently fighting a group of muggers who had just tried to jump him, dark green handkerchief over his face as if that was a good enough mask. He didn't really care, eye bruised and blood darkening the cloth as it ran from his nose. Two of the men were already knocked out, and the third was trying to just run by this point. "C-Come on man! We've all gotta eat, you know how hard it is out here!"
While he'd usually make some quip or remark, there was only a dark look in his usually bright green eyes. The color had somehow changed to just...black. But if you knew the man, you'd recognize him. He was dirty, beaten and bloody, and looking sickly...but this was Jake English all the same. He jumped on the man without mercy, a flurry of punches knocking his lights out without much more trouble.
Jake stumbled to his feet, leaning up against the wall of the alley and lifting his mask to spit blood out onto the ground. The night was still young, and he'd have more trash to clean up before he was done, he was certain. He could even hear someone walking nearby...maybe it'd be sooner than he expected, black eyes focused forward and preparing himself for round 2.