Jack Skellington (
quickattackjack) wrote2016-08-08 03:42 am
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IC INBOX FOR VR
Hi there! Wanna thread but don't have time/want to set up a whole post for it?
Does your character just wanna call and shoot the breeze? LET'S DO IT.
[Psst, if you need OOC contact, try here!]
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[Jack hasn't forgotten about his promise to give Cancer Bag a makeover. He just needed a couple of days to make the appropriate appointments and figure out what he wanted to do with the guy. He...wow, he was a fixer upper. He looked like something you'd find screaming gibberish in a cave in the middle of nowhere.]
[So here's Jack, calling up Other Jack, all smiles and excitement. He's lounging on a bench in Goldenrod, his fat puppy sprawled in his lap. He never goes anywhere without the Houndour.]
So, you ready for your big day Gramps? Meet me in front of the Goldenrod Department Store, we'll go make you man pretty!
Or...ya'know. As much as we can. We'll do something, it'll be good, it'll be good.
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[And then his Poke'Gear lights up.]
[He answers, all smiles as well. He is but a feeble old man, grateful for this very fashion forward mastermind's company!!]
Oh! How wonderful! I'll be there in about an hour.
[Because it's going to take that long for Jack to write up something like a will, gather up Edgar, his Murkrow, and finally drag himself out the door.]
[He arrives outside the Poke'Mart wearing a Houndour-inspired windbreaker suit and a knitted cap pulled down over his wild tangled hair. Edgar hops along in the snow behind him, pausing occaisonally to flail her wings in the snow and toss it onto her back.]
Good afternoon, Jack!
[He leaned in, pretending to be giddy and conspiratorial.]
Or should I say boss!
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[About time, geeze. What took so long, it's not like the guy puts much into his appearance. Clearly. If he did, this whole thing wouldn't be necessary.]
Ahhh!
[Handsome Jack shoots a pair of finger guns at the conspirator's whisper.]
Damn right. And look at this, you're getting the perks already!
[Doom Boner slides off of Jack's lap in an oozing sprawl of fur and flab, to sniff curiously at the Murkrow, tongue lolling out. Which leaves Jack free to stand up, stretching to pop his back. The cold doesn't really agree with him here.]
[Mainly because he's fifty years old and lacks access to all the advancements Hyperion had to keep him looking and feeling twenty years younger.]
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[Jack is so glad he used to teach acting. He bends down to greet Doom Boner with a fond, if not wistful smile. He misses his own Houndour. Edgar doesn't greet the pup so readily. She is a stern old Murkrow and cranes her neck back from Doom Boner's sniffy nose. She lets out a low croak of warning.]
So! What's first on the agenda?
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[And it's probably gonna be the easiest thing to take care of.]
I made you an appointment with my girl, she's great. If she can't do anything for you, nobody can.
[D.B whines at the rebuff, flopping down on his belly and looking upwards hopefully. He's just trying to make friends... At least the other human seems to like him.]
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If you trust her, so do I!
[Edgar flutters up to Jack's shoulder and gives Other Jack a squint before distracting herself with her own preening.]
Shall we?
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[A rather ironic bit of advice, as Handsome Jack begins leading the way to his salon. It never once occurred to him to leave his puppy at home.]
Drives me crazy, but...I dunno. Be weird if I didn't have him with me, ya know? He's not even the one I started out with, but the friggin thing needs so much attention....
[The Houndour in questions waddles at Jack's feet, tongue hanging out looking up adoringly. Yeah, he knows what sort of person his Trainer is. But his Trainer's never been bad to him, so he doesn't really care.]
One time, I put him out of the bedroom for the night, he cried the whole time. You got any like that?
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I've had a few ghost-types who were anxious the last time I was here, but none that had separation anxiety. Does he not like his Poke'ball? I find when mine need a break, they're more than happy to hop inside.
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[And that had been that. After a few abysmal attempts at training, Jack stopped thinking of Doom Boner as anything other than his pet. Now the houndour's just a staple of his life. Wherever he goes, the fat puppy is at his side or in his lap or waddling right behind. It's just...nice. Always having something there. Something that's not gonna screw him over or leave him, no matter what.]
I keep my battle pokes in their balls and boxed and crap, but D.B... it'd feel weird. I wouldn't be too happy if he hopped in there. He's my special little guy. I mean the only reason I put him out of the bedroom that time was 'cause my wife was here. That...he didn't need to be exposed to any of that, we're...we have our fun. In the bedroom.
But nah, he does everything with me. Hell, he gets done at the same salon we're going to.
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Maybe he just has a little more growing to do...but if you want my opinion, boss, you might want to officially catch him in case of an emergency. A Pokemon is safest in its Poke'ball after all!
[Jack paused in his Helpful Tips because THE SALON loomed and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Is this what it felt like to be afraid?]
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Huh, never thought of that. Oh well, whatever, we've got way more important things to worry about now! We're here, buddy! Time to get you groomed. I got an idea, I think you'll like it. Ha, what am I saying? Of course you will!
[Handsome Jack struts ahead, yammering on about how lucky the other, much less handsome Jack was, to be treated to a salon visit like this. He flings open the doors to the salon, striding in like the place exists solely for his benefit and announcing his arrival with a hearty 'Handsome Jack, in the flesh!'. Because as far as he's concerned, this place does exist for his benefit. The money he throws at this place...they should be falling at his feet every time he comes in here.]
[But he'll take being swarmed by helpful salon assistants, plying him with the usual treats of champagne and little sandwiches. It's obvious he comes in here often. There's already a dish out for D.B. How does anybody live any other way? Talk about hell...first month here, he'd had to go to a discount barber. Never again.]
[But today he's sharing his rock star lifestyle. He remembers he's brought Cancer Bag, and for a reason.]
Hey, hey...make sure my bro here gets he same treatment! Ladies, this is Fixer Upper Jack, he's the one you're gonna be working your magic on today. I know, I know, the guy's a disaster...
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[And there was something else. A tiny little flickering ember deep down in the pit of his stomach. Envy. This was how the citizens of Halloween Town used to greet him. Here? He was nobody. Sure he had wonderful friends and maybe a good old fashioned enemy or two, but he was still nobody. And it had been five years. The sudden spark of self discovery actually allowed him to miss the insults the other Jack sprinkled over him like confetti.]
[Well.]
[He'd be Somebody eventually. He'd be the Jack that destroyed Team Rocket from the inside out. Cancer Bag indeed!]
[He strode ahead and greeted the assistants with a polite nod of the head, keeping his simple happy little old man smile firmly in place as though his lips had been glued shut by a master embalmer.]
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Alright, I've got an idea for what I think we should do here...
[Now his attention is on his 'project', though he's talking over Jack Skellington to the stylist.]
I'm thinking we keep some length, he's got a face for length...but really sexify it, ya'know? Get some layers in there, some framing... Hey Old Jack, how do ya feel about a color job?
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How about green?
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[There's only so much they've got to work with, after all. But no, they can do this. Cancer Bag's gonna come out of this looking like something out of one of those vaguely scary shows for chicks, with all the broody long haired dudes in lots of black velvet and leather.]
Anyway, I'm thinking black. Just so black. 'Cause there's nothing we can do about your skin tone, that's...wow. So we're gonna play off it, instead, go for a killer contrast. You're gonna be Corpse Chic!
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Corpse Chic, huh? I can't wait...
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[Handsome Jack plops himself down in the next chair, stretching out and grinning like the lord of the manor. He ignores the salon attendants as they get everything set up, and chatter over Spooky Jack's head in preparation. The smell of hair chemicals increases in potency.]
This is why I never bothered with a personal stylist, I don't need one! I know my strengths! All of'em.
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[As the hairdressers go to work on him, Jack tries to pull a little more info out of his 'boss'.]
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Wouldn't be as successful as I am if I didn't! See, you can't spread yourself too thin. You gotta know what you're good at and go with that! Back home, I got started in computers. Programming and design, I was kinda a prodigy. Did I want to be a badass space adventurer hero from the start? Sure I did! But my strengths were coding and circuits, so I rode that to a pretty sweet job where I was set to shoot up the corporate ladder. And I'm also good at learning, so I learned how to be the badass superstar you see before ya now!
[Really, it was more of a complete reinvention of his self, but whatever. He likes to think of it as finally coming into his own.]
Here...here things are different, I'm at a different place in my life, so I'm relying on different strengths. You gotta adapt. Another of my strengths! I'm an adaptable guy.
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That's so inspiring!