Re: Shiloh F + Jack P: The Capital
He was undeniably odd but Jack had come to terms with that decades and decades ago, long enough that the very idea of being remotely normal was almost charming, in the way of small children who wanted to grow up to be things. His mother was mad, his dad a drunk, in other words, if Jack had been normal, there was likely something very wrong with him. The kid on the other hand, had the breathtaking confidence of the rich or the lovely. He couldn't make out if he was either, but the confidence was easy enough to spot.
"An odd duck?" Jack was delighted with the phrase. It was as old as the nanny he'd had briefly, his mother flirting with the idea of a good old-fashioned upbringing before his father had driven her off. "Are you from the fifties? What do you make of modern technology? You know, telling me I'm a hypocrite is similar to telling one to fuck themselves." His voice made light of the whole thing, even if Jack was throwing a glance over his shoulder, and had the strained, focused look of trying very badly to look like he wasn't looking in that direction at all.
"He's not going to come our way. He'll send someone instead," he said absently. It wasn't faces that would get rearranged, so much as a debt owed would get taken back in, you know, the traditional kind of way when everyone involved had the kind of firepower that could take out a nearby building. "But he's not going to if I'm not by myself. Too much to give away. People like that believe in sure things."