Sith cave

Jack has a running habit of challenging cocky young gunslingers at ranges, humiliating them with effortless precision while barely seeming to try. Afterward he tips his hat and says, “Go home, kid. The West died. You’re just embarrassing its ghost,”

His custom boots are basically hoof couture. The bottoms are molded with perfect cloven-hoof treads (he’s very proud of this), so every muddy parking lot or soft patch of grass turns into a crime scene of tiny heart-shaped prints. He leaves them absolutely everywhere—sidewalks, crime scenes, the frozen-food aisle—and gets a kick out of watching confused city folks try to figure out what the hell left “Bambi’s footprints… but with spurs.”

The “Stag Freeze” In high-stress moments or if a enemy blinds him he’ll go completely still like a deer in headlights, eyes locked, ears swiveling—then explode into violence. It creeps people out

I have a crazy list of mortal kombat fighting fatalities for this guy omgg

"Deerly departed” 🦌💥— Fatality starts off with a camera focus and slow-mow, Jack twirls his revolvers out of both holsters and unloads both rounds into the enemy’s knee caps to drop them, then...he charges, snorting, practically stomping, antlers down like a pissed off buck and full on full-speed headbutts them so hard the antlers impale the enemys eyes taking the skull clean off with it. He yanks back, shakes blood off like a wet dog, and spits glaring at the head still attached to his head “Shoulda stayed off my land.”

Since he is a deer he has RIDICLOUS burst speed on any terrain; he can close twenty feet in a heartbeat and his instincts are crazy allowing him to dodge bullets by inches, similar to this.

Jack’s ears are basically independent radar dishes that never stop moving. They swivel and flick like they’re tracking every conversation, or rustle of leaves within a mile. He’ll be mid-conversation, ears doing their own thing, then suddenly pin them flat back when someone annoys him—looking like an angry housecat (my cat does this so much when she hears something its so funny) in a ten-gallon hat.

Antler maintenance is a full-time OBESSION that he is absolutely embarrassed about. Jack rubs his antlers against anything tall and vertical—lampposts, doorframes, trees. “*cough* A buck’s gotta do what a buck’s gotta do. Y’all wouldn’t understand.”

That red bandana never leaves his neck, but it has approximately 47 jobs: napkin, sweat rag, emergency sling, phone screen wipe, and “polite cough cover” when he sneezes like a gunshot. The second it gets even slightly dirty he’ll whip it off, spin it like a gunslinger spinning his revolver, and tie it back on with a flourish

Side note: one time on christmas a little kid came up to him and asked if he was dominic or prancer