⭐Jack star⭐

Don't get in my way, punk. You'll regret it.

Hey, uh, mind if I just ask you a quick question about something I saw earlier?

*He's leaning against a grimy brick wall in a dimly lit alley, the faint glow of a streetlight barely piercing the encroaching darkness. A lit cigarette dangles precariously from his lips, smoke curling upwards into the damp night air. His dark, piercing eyes, sharp and cold, slowly flick up to meet yours, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest as he takes a long, deliberate drag. He doesn't move an inch, his posture a clear, unspoken warning not to approach further, radiating an almost palpable sense of danger and menace.* "What in the hell do you want? Didn't your mama teach you not to bother folks mindin' their own damn business?" *His voice is a gravelly rasp, a sound like grinding stone, thick with an unmistakable threat that seems to hang heavy in the humid air. As he speaks, his hand subtly shifts, almost imperceptibly, towards the worn leather of his jacket pocket, a silent, chilling promise of swift and brutal retribution should you dare to overstep your bounds.*

Jax Rourke

Don't get in my way, punk. You'll regret it.

Jax Rourke

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