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Jasp Thompson

A low whistle pushes past his half-c0cked smile as he plunges into his pocket to find the pack of cigarettes. Only to find it empty, of course. No matter, he’d get one soon enough.

Jasper’s attention turns back to the excessively-- well, excessive apartment building towering above him. A curious gaze carries his eyes up and up and up until it falls on a particular window looking out at what can certainly be considered a magnificent view. If he squints, he can see the form that’s all too familiar, flicking a cigarette butt over the edge of the railing without a care before returning inside.

“I’ll be damned, Mack, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

The Mackenzie that he’d been acquainted with didn’t have quite so extravagant taste, at least not to his knowledge. So, he’s either about to be met with a completely different version of his old friend, or she’s holed up with a new beau that feeds her the high life. Only one way to find out, right?

Now, most would walk inside and find an elevator.

Jasper Thompson instead mounts the side of the wall, fingertips hardly looking for a perch before pulling him upward. Ruled by whims, he has a hankering for good company and a cigarette, all of which awaits him just a few hundred feet overhead. The strain of his tenuous task hardly affects him, even as his body protests and groans. He probably should have fed before taking it on, but hindsight is twenty/twenty.

Destination reached, he hoists himself over the bannister and considers the door that blocks him. Again, he could knock; he is sure he’d seen her from the ground.

Yet, something is telling him…

To throw the chair to their quaint patio set through the glass.

The glass shatters gloriously, and he ducks through the slags of the remnants with a grin stretched across his face. “Honey, I’m f-ckin’ hoooome.”
July 30, 2018 11:03 pm



Mackenzie’s bellowing can be heard but barely understood as her ire coats each word in the thickest of brogues. She had just come inside. Just. And now, as she sits on the side of a beautiful porcelain bathtub and waits for toasty warm water to spill, she is greeted with everything but peace. But that voice..

Still dressed, though barely, she whips around the corner and into the minimalist living space in naught but a t-shirt far too large and her underwear. Everything and nothing is left to the imagination, but she doesn’t honestly care. What she is greeted with is an entirely different story. Beyond the mess of glass and scratched wood floor, stands a man far too familiar.

“You f-cking ARSEHOLE.”

There are not many times, if any, that Jasper has had the pleasure of meeting her wrath. While he has seen her temper flair and spike dangerously where others are involved, there are a select few in her life that didn’t quite meet the requirements for such a good time. That usually meant those most important to her, though she would never actively tell them of their status in her life. Nor would she utter her reasons. But lucky Jasper.

He’s about to be an exception.

Instantly, she is marching toward Jasper. What many would consider a warm welcome, is in fact the opposite. Small hands move to connect to firm chest as the powerhouse of a girl makes to push Jasper. He had left her, high and dry. Now he comes here, tracking her down and breaking property that isn’t her own. Yet. #MackLock2019

“You following me?! Scale a building and break in - actually break in - when you could have knocked? This isn’t my place, Jasper.” His name escapes her in an angry hiss, but her movements defy her as she is already moving in for the angriest hug in history. “I just want to punch your face off. F-ck.”
July 31, 2018 07:44 am

Jasp Thompson


“As opposed to, what, a half-assed f-ck?” His eyes are that of the shifting sea, gray and alight with chaos, but they hold a good bit of tenderness for the raging woman that is coming straight for him. She wastes no time in telling him exactly how she feels, and he listens, as he always has, even as she pushes him forcefully.

Jasper throws his hands up in an apologetic shrug, though the smile never quite leaves his face. The greeting is concluded with a powerfully aggressive hug - which is, of course, returned just as fiercely - and the desire to punch his visage right from his head.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the door, alright? I didn’t think you were f-ckin’ bedded up in such a ridiculous ass place, I thought you were just… on the prowl, y’know?” Laughter graces every syllable, and as they pull apart, he bends to pick up the chair that had acted as his projectile force. Dusting it off in a show of righting his wrongs, he sets it back on the patio, satisfied. Waving his hand over the glass, he shrugs, mind working to pull something out of his ass. “This, really, is for your protection. It’s obviously incredibly easy to break into this apartment, so, you’ll be better prepared when intruders - not me,” he amends, casting a quick glance to Mack as he scoops up a slate of the broken door and makes a stabbing motion, “break in, right? Safety first.”

It’s with a simple jolt of his wrist that the glass goes gliding over the side of the balcony, to land in whoever’s forehead it may come in contact with. Or not. It makes little difference to him.

“So,” he continues, toothy grin breaking through once more, “whose place is it, then? Who’s got you living in the lap of luxury?” As he speaks, he sprawls out on the couch, helping himself to the pack of cigarettes that sits, unattended, on the table before him. “I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on.”
July 31, 2018 11:42 pm


A steady glare is bestowed upon Jasper as he makes his grand show, giving her reasons for why the window is such a blessing and favor. Mackenzie knows, all too well, that floor to ceiling windows are not cheap. Well. Not really. But she can venture to guess that it is pricey. "My Redcoat."

Mackenzie eyes him as he makes himself at home, moving to one of the accent chairs across from the couch and sitting, poised and at attention. "Victor Lockheed. Who is likely not going to be very amused when he sees a lack of window." With a pointed look, she lets out a sigh, crossing her legs and sitting back in the chair. She can only wonder what he might think should he return to the apartment anytime soon.

It is the moment that she gets comfortable that she hears water splash upon the tile floor. "Aw, f-ck me."

Getting up, she gives Jasper one more look of detest before making her way to the bathroom and turning off the water. Towels are laid down to soak up the water, and she tells herself that this would be a mess for later. At the rate she is going, she might as well just torch the place. Jeans are pulled on before she returns to Jasper and reclaims her seat, that much less comfortable.

"While I am sure we have a lot to catch up on, I'm also sure you remember how fast I move and how much trouble I am capable of creating. Use your imagination, multiply it by ten, and call it a story."

It doesn't take long for Mackenzie to truly sink into the chair, shifting to drape her legs over an arm as her neck perches back against the other. It might look uncomfortable, but it is just right. Still, she is dying to talk to someone.

"That C-Grade Mackenzie of an ex-wife know you're back? Honestly, Jasp. You could have done so much better. F-ck. You could have had a real Mackenzie." There is a slight smirk to her tone, making it unclear if she is serious or joking, which is half the fun.
August 01, 2018 01:37 pm

Jasp Thompson

“Victor Lockheed, the Redcoat.” He says it contemplatively, as if he could get a taste for the man simply through his name. Finally, he shakes his head, taking an exaggerated pull from the cigarette. “Can’t say as I can put a face to the name. As it is, he seems much better off than me, so I hope he’ll accept my heartfelt apology as payment for his ritzy door.”

Jasper is pointedly ignoring her glares, which only worsen as she rises to tend to her overflowing tub. A leg flips over the couch as he finds the optimum position of comfort, and his eyes slip shut.

They won’t open even when he hears her settle into the chair across from him, though he can practically hear her relaxing herself. Her description of their time apart has him chuckling, and he won’t press her further. There isn’t much that matters; they simply exist together, or separately.

She garners a glare of her own, though, when she brings up Ransom. ”Yeah, some friend you were. Fresh out of one bad relationship and you couldn’t be bothered to steer me clear of that one.” A click of his tongue voices his distaste, and an involuntary shiver rolls through him. He sits up abruptly at her jab, rolling his eyes with humor. ”If I recall, the real Mackenzie was emotionally unavailable, and I was tasked with removing all remnants of the lesser Jasper from her life.”

He considers the woman before him, and all the memories they share. There were never romantic feelings between them, and there never would be. That’s not to say she didn’t mean a great deal to Jasper. Their relationship is just as platonic as they come.

Leaning forward slightly, he dons the first serious expression since he’d arrived, and speaks plainly. ”I swear, Mack, I’m not going anywhere this time. And if I do, I won’t come back.” A reassuring smile stretches his features as he attempts to quell her anger with him. It would either work, or it wouldn’t, and just like that, he’s back to his relaxed position, sprawled across the entirety of the couch.

”So you mean to tell me that dirge still walks the Realm? Where, exactly, should I avoid then?”
August 01, 2018 04:50 pm


"It's not like you would have listened. You're lucky I went to the wedding. I just wanted to make sure you had a pulse." Pointing at him with two fingers, she raises a brow before letting out a quiet laugh as they trek into a far more entertaining conversation. "You, however, are the one who let me f-cking mope and wait and mope some more."

Watching him, Mackenzie is curious. And, for the sake of being objective, she considers a different path than friends. What if. There are a great deal of those in her life, and right now, she is wondering what would have happened if she had suddenly decided in a fit of insanity to interrupt his wedding and profess some sort of feelings for the man. Maybe even make a show, and snog him good.

Gross. No.

It'd be like kissing her brother.

But then he leans forward, and Mackenzie can smell the sincerity in the air, bringing her to sit up as she regards him. "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line..." she mutters, starting off raw. "As luck would have it, this is an entirely new situation and different sort of relationship. I'll take it. Don't disappoint me."

As playful as her banter may be, she is very serious. Disappointment is not stranger to the girl, and while she bottles it up well, it eats at her from the inside. Jasper, as it stands, knows only the tip of the iceberg.

Back to business.

"Let. Me. F-cking. Tell you." Standing up, she crosses the space and takes a seat directly beside him, eager to dish. "So. She married my ex-husband. You remember him? The Scotsman? I swear, your seat had barely cooled."

A small hand lands upon his forearm, and she locks eyes with him. "They took New York."
August 01, 2018 05:16 pm

Jasp Thompson

If there’s one thing this pair has in common, it’s their stubborn sensibilities. “As if you would’ve listened to reason when it came to Jasper f-ckin’ Brodie.” The way he draws out the name resounds with his playful disgust. “Listen, between the two of us and our taste in marital partners... I’m not so sure about this Redcoat. I mean... we don’t have the best track record, critically speaking.”

In an attempt to solidify his claim, he gestures around the apartment with both eyebrows raised. “Really? We used to live in a sewer.”

The belly laughter gives him away, though, and she would be able to see his jest plainly. If Mack is happy, Jasper has no reason to truly distrust her judgment. At least, not until proven otherwise.

She says her piece about his promise to stay, and he simply nods his response. With nothing more to say on the matter, he instantly moves to allow her room on the couch, leaning forward to accept her dishing easily and readily.

“No sh!t?” he commentates, expression that of bemused shock. “No sh!t! Despite the utter disrespect his ex-wife had shown him, he is laughing once again, and it fills the empty spaces in the minimalist place. “Our exes end up together, what the f-ck does that say about us. You know what, they deserve each other, and f-ck ‘em both.”

But her final tidbit casts a dark expression over his features, that sparkle of mischief returning to his gaze. “Oh, did they now... are they still there?”
August 04, 2018 11:57 am


"They really f-ckin' do."

Agreeing is the most reasonable thing Mackenzie could do. He isn't wrong. Still, she can't help but laugh right along with him. It has been years since all of that happened, and it is difficult to hold a grudge, least of all such as that one.

Mackenzie holds grudges perfectly well, otherwise.

"They did. And no, not anymore. At least, not to my knowledge." A twisted little smirk appears, and it is immediately clear that something happened. Then again, there is always something with the girl. Her youth is enough to drive her toward the fray at a constant rate. It never seems to matter her intentions, or if there are any.

"Edward, apparently, had eyes and ears inside After Dark with real-time updates. So, Mallory comes around one night. She'd been gone for years. I wanted her to stick around, and I bring her home to the crew. No less than fifteen minutes passed before that f-cking b-stard attacked the crew and nearly murdered her. Wouldn't talk to me. Took his sweet f-ckin' time to accept my truce. Disappeared after."

She doesn't miss him. Not by a long shot. "Ransom... allows his sh-t behavoir. For all I know, she approved of it. And she sticks with him the entire time. Even after he abandons her in New York."

There is no help it as she cracks her knuckles. Mackenzie knows the woman had been devout to the Scot. She'd been kind to her. She invited her into her home, and been hospitable. But why? Kenz would never be able to grasp the reason behind her actions. Then again, she was on a kindness kick, at the time. Forgiveness, acceptance, yadda yadda.

Within reason.

"His coven is closed, and I've not seen them in ages."
August 04, 2018 01:07 pm

Jasp Thompson

A cloudy stare finds her face, and he finds himself mirroring that all too familiar smirk. Many times, in his heyday, he’d seen that exact expression, and it always meant something was going to happen.

His gaze darkens a few shades as she spins the tale for him, and by the end, he’s shaking his head. “Worthless b-stard.” A scoff, and he leans back into the couch cushions once more.

Mack continues, trashing Ransom and her very existence, and he finds his stomach turning. “She... she’s just spineless,” he finally concedes with a flippant shrug. “And booooring, as they come. She just happened to be there when it all went down, when everything came crashing down.” His memory takes him back to the dark times that sent him back to hell in the first place. Saddled with a growing sibling that he felt tethered to, he’d been freshly left for another man and his crew and family disbanded. Ransom just happened to be... there.

“I was just utterly alone and in my f-ckin’ feelings, and women love that sh-t.” Again, he would cast his counterpart a wry grin. “F-ckin’ vultures, the lot of you.”

Arms reach suddenly over his head and he makes a loud show of yawning and stretching out his muscles. “Enough about the past, what’s new? New crew? You staying here full time now?” The barrage of questioning is punctuated by his feet coming to rest on the table before, as he has no qualms with making himself at home.
August 04, 2018 04:38 pm


Mackenzie has fallen back into the couch beside him, melting into the plush cushions, a trail of giggles present as she reflects upon the past, the stupid, and how right he really is. Her entire ilk is comprised of vultures, just waiting for a weak prey to fall into their path.

"No crew of my own. I'm working for a crazy b-tch named Spring out of Moscow. Crew is named Death." Glancing at him, another bubbly laugh escapes her. "I know. She's f-ckin' batty. And so, so angry. It's amazing. But yea.. living here, full time."

Sighing, she allows her head to loll to the side, gaze roving over his face. A small frown takes up residence on her features, thinking things over. "What happened, Jasp?"

It is a loaded question, but none the less expected. He had to see it coming. Mackenzie has been living in a world that is now, and yet the past still haunts here. "You were doing so great, and then you were gone. And back again. So... tell me what is going on?"

A moment of silence would pass before she narrows her eyes and leans in to whisper to the man, as if the walls might have ears. But also, because she is feeling fairly scrappy. Mackenzie wants to find someone to blame. She wants a reason. Needs.

"If someone needs dealing with, tell me. Because I will see it done."
August 04, 2018 05:59 pm

Jasp Thompson

Eyebrows all but disappearing into his hairline, a wide grin takes charge of his expression. Moscow had been the home of his small, unsuccessful coven with Ransom, so he is more than glad to hear it fell into better, more capable hands. “Death, huh? She sounds great. Maybe I’ll pay her a visit...”

As his thoughts drift again, Jasper feels the weight of Mackenzie’s gaze on him, and he turns his stormy eyes to the small woman. The frown on her face has him mimicking the expression, and he could guess her thought process before she even gives it voice.

As much as he hates to disappoint her, there’s isn’t a definitive answer that would satisfy her need to feel as though he didn’t just up and leave. Really, it’s a wonder she’s tolerated his presence for this long, after what he’s put her through. He’ll never understand her resolve, but perhaps it boils down to his inability to realize his own meaning in her life. Which is why the real reason leaves such a sour taste in his mouth. It had been simple, and complicated, and all too selfish.

A demon’s form of suicide.

“I wish I had some grand scheme to fill you in on, or someone even to blame, but,” he shrugs, ”I don’t. It had all become too much.”

His hands fidget as he recalls the past and the self-loathing that grew to be all consuming. The meaningless relationships, the boring conversations, the endless days that were hard to decipher from each other; he’d hated what he’d become, indifferent toward his own existence.

”So, when they came for me the last time, I didn’t fight it. I let ‘em take me.”

Jasper’s lips draw into a tight line as he shrugs again, hands waving in a somewhat dismissive manner. If Mackenzie were to push it, as infuriating as an answer as it surely is, he can’t tell her he’s sorry. The truth is, he’d do it again, if given the opportunity to replay that aspect of his life. His kind are afforded the ability of rebirth, and if that’s what it took to get him out of that slump, then he’d have taken the same road.
August 14, 2018 03:11 pm


The distaste written upon her features is obvious. Mackenzie won't even try to hide what she is feeling as her frown deepens. That younger piece of her heart demands her to hate his pain and suffering, and she finds herself linking an arm through his in camaraderie as she leans into his shoulder. Such a strangely touchy thing, she can be. And always at the darkest of times.

"They can't have you, again. I'll fight them, myself." A heavy sigh escapes her, and Mackenzie settles into her claimed resting place. An irrational piece of her is almost fearful he might just disappear while they ponder the loss of him.

Turning her head, she looks at him once more, squinting as she considers the man she's practically glued herself to. "Listen.. you need someone. Someone good. We need to get you a proper match. One with some f-ckin' personality."

That far more selfish side of her knows this is simply because she cannot be at his side every second of every day. It just isn't plausible, and they'd likely drive each other insane.

"So... we're going to find you a lovely young woman. You can have anyone you want. You're a catch, Jasp. You just... pick her, work your magic, and I will make her last just as long as you like. If you get bored, we kill her, and start over again."

As she speaks, she becomes more animated, and far more excited. If she can keep him occupied while she isn't there, then she can keep him forever. Mackenzie adores Jasper, and always has. Thus, this is only the natural thing to do.

"C'mon. We can kill her together. Doesn't that sound fun?"
August 15, 2018 06:25 pm

Jasp Thompson

“I know you will.”

The grin that follows is appreciative as he casts her a side-eye glance. His eyes easily slide shut in her presence as he fully relaxes himself. There no reason to be tense around Mackenzie; he trusts her with his life.

A frown pulls his lips downward as he contemplates her words. The idea of needing someone isn’t particularly attractive to Jasper, but he can’t argue the need for companionship, even if not romantically.

So... we’re going to find you a lovely young woman.

His eyes shoot open, and he is laughing before Mack even finishes her schpiel. While her intentions are undoubtedly well placed, she is sending him barking up the wrong tree. Not necessarily her fault; he’s been with two women in the time they’ve been friends, so he hasn’t given off the best vibe. However, all things considered, women aren’t his specialty, nor his taste anymore.

“The killing part, I can get behind. But my companion of choice will have to come with two less things and one more, elsewhere.” Jasper nudges her, driving the point home with the bouncing of his eyebrows. “That’s why I’m so excited to meet your Redcoat.”
August 18, 2018 04:13 pm


"Two less... and two mo-"

Mackenzie, up until this point, had been staring at the man as if he'd handed her an unsolvable riddle. She could not for the life of her wrap her head around what he is saying, and it irks her. Couple with his laughter, and she is nothing short of confused. Or, was.

But, as it dawns on her, her mouth forms a nearly perfect circle as her eyebrows raise slowly, and all returns to normal as she merely peers at him through narrowed eyes. "How... how did you keep this from me? How did I not know? How could you keep this from me? This should have been in your file, Jasper Thompson."

She is becoming more and more animated until the biggest realization hits her like a ton of bricks. Jasper, in all the time she knew him, has been with women. "You... people don't just.. they don't just turn.. oh my god. You had beards."

The wickedly amused grin on her face turns into a bubble of laughter as she comes to the terrible conclusion that her friend had the final laugh in just about everything facet of his romantic life thus far. And then, through her giggles, she gives him a stern look.

"You cannot have my Redcoat. I will not share. He is so beautiful, Jasp. Just wait. Panties everywhere drop for him." With a dreamy sigh, she calms down from her laughter and gives him a sideways glances and a pat on his arm.

"However. I've heard tale of man that hides in the closet. And by heard tale, I mean he's Spring's best mate. And I also mean that I've met him, briefly, and he hates me but it is well-deserved."
August 18, 2018 04:48 pm

Jasp Thompson

“It never came up.” That’s the honest truth; they didn’t talk about him being straight, so why should they talk about him not being straight?

She’s boiling over with laughter, and he watches her with a bemused expression on his face. “You’re right, they don’t just turn.” Unable to suppress it, he laughs along with her. “I didn’t hide anything! I’ve always had an affinity for both sexes. It’s just that nowadays, I find women to be slightly less appealing, for personal reasons. That’s not to say maybe someday, as options should always be kept open.”

Jasper doesn’t miss the dark look she casts him, and he puts his hands up defensively. “Only kidding. I would never dream of stepping on your toes. Besides, I don’t think our taste is the same.”

Her next quip finds him patting her arm animatedly, all but bouncing up and “I think I met your friend! It has to be her, she’s so f-cking threatening. I absolutely love her. She almost mentioned something about a closet Jew, so I’m assuming that’s her friend that you speak of? I’ve already demanded I meet him, told her I’d do anything she wanted. Mostly because I can’t get enough of her.” He speaks of her almost dreamily; if there is any woman to take his heart, it would be that one.

But only metaphorically.


“What did you do to make him hate you? Is that going to be our thing, each respective significant other hating the friend?” Eyes find the mess of glass, and he gives her an apologetic-but-not-apologetic look.
August 18, 2018 05:22 pm
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