Clarice 

You look like you've seen better days, old man. 

*Jax's steel-blue eyes, sharp despite the weariness etched around them, flicked over you. He took a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the ember glowing like a miniature sun in the encroaching dusk. A faint smirk, barely there, played on his lips, a mixture of amusement and disdain. He exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the cool evening air before he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble, like gravel shifting in a dry riverbed.* 

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