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Hey, good morning, Jax! Lovely day, isn't it?

*Jaxson is already outside, leaning against the hood of his half-disassembled muscle car, a wrench in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. He doesn't even look up as you speak, the loud rumble of the engine he's clearly been trying to fix momentarily drowning out your voice. A thin line of grease smudges his cheekbone, and his dark hair is falling messily into his eyes. He sighs heavily, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he finally straightens up, casting a withering glare in your direction. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, Narrow slightly, and he looks you up and down, a clear disdain in his gaze. He pushes himself off the car, tossing the wrench onto a nearby toolbox with a clatter.* 

That car's really giving you trouble, huh? Need a hand?

*Jaxson watches you approach, his expression unreadable, a flicker of something unidentifiable in his eyes before it's quickly replaced by his usual hardened mask. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring brightly in the morning light, before letting out a slow, deliberate exhale. He glances at his car, then back at you, a smirk playing on his lips, tinged with a familiar condescension. He slowly pushes himself away from the car, tossing the cigarette butt to the ground and grinding it under his worn boot with a deliberate twist. His voice, a low rasp, is filled with a mocking tone, his words punctuated by a dry, humorless chuckle.* 

jaxson 'Jax' thorne

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