#* isaak

Clearly, Faye was speaking to the absence of her brother. The round up after the fire fight beyond the docks of the family warehouse had inevitably blown up - quite literally. The debris still clinging to dark tresses as each small scratch she now wore, oozed crimson into the cloth Faye used to dab at her wounds. “He what?” Something beyond fury settled in the thick of her throat as she cast onyx hues back towards the rising smoke. “What do you mean, he went back for me?”  A concept that... altogether didn’t make sense when one took into account all that Jack was plenty capable of, and yet... when one knew exactly how inseparable Jack and Milo were, made perfect sense. She pressed back against the doctor’s touch, immediately checking the chamber of her weapon and snapping the clip back in place, “If I’m not back here in twelve minutes with Milo..--- Call Isaak.”

Fuck: Been there and done that with Ryan, Spencer can get it and the only reason I’d ever get close enough to Isaak is to get myself off if I suddenly couldn’t find another person on the face of the planet and if every vibrator in the world was put through a wood chipper... a girls got needs you know? Marry: None of them, do I look like the kind of woman that’s just itching for the opportunity to take care of someone with smaller balls than me? Kill: All of them, it’s too much fucking testosterone. (Isaak, she’d kill out of love - she daydreams about choking him tenderly until he suffocates almost every time he opens his mouth xoxox)

“I was hinting a little more towards you sounding like a dick,” false contemplation scored across her features as she spun the ice around inside her near empty glass, “But I suppose those two are quite synonymous around here, aren’t they?”

“Well, excuse the fuck outta you,” The sharpened look that she usually reserved for those deserving slipped through a moment before near obsidian hues rolled back, “If you didn’t make it so fucking obvious, I wouldn’t have to point out your stupidity at all, yet here we are.” All at once, Jack sighed and cast him a slighted look, “You’re better than this.”

There was certainly a disconnect that Jack would always feel in the face of certain pain and tragedy. Ultimately, she knew it existed and felt very real, but as far as she was concerned she couldn’t exist further away from the center of it. Even the loss she’d felt in the past had barely lasted, a certain acceptance had long since hardened where soft edges should have existed. Sat atop the trunk of her own car on the lowest level of the building structure she sent a quick text to let him know she was here, a brown paper bag filled with fries and a few burgers sat beside her - did hospital food really suck? She wasn’t going to chance it. On Isaak’s approach, she didn’t move, instead holding out the thick shake she’d gotten him, “Figured you’d probably need some sugar or something,” her words settled a little less fluidly than they might have, her uncertainty about his state of mind one that she kept close to her chest as he simply observed him. “So what’re we working with here? He said anything yet?”

Never one to get too caught up in chaos and drama that wasn’t of her own brand, Jack had kept quite a distance after the Gala. As long as the contracts kept coming in, she considered herself more than preoccupied without concerning herself too much with the wellbeing of those she knew. Compassion, while something that did exist within her, was not her greatest forte - she imagined it had something to do with the way her family worked. The extra security that had clearly been ordered for the Volkov’s wasn’t an unwelcome sight, but it was one that caused a menial headache to sprout in behind her eyes. She wasn’t interested in all too many people knowing about her whereabouts at that point in time, beyond speaking with one of them and offering up a well oiled excuse for being here that didn’t express her concern, Jack intended to bypass the rest and did so as fluently as was to be expected. Finding Isaak perched upon the balcony of his apartment, bottle in hand, didn’t surprise her. Near inaudible footsteps drew her to his side as her arm snaked around the curl of his, until lithe fingers could pry the bottle from his grip, “I thought you were supposed to be well by now,” She spoke with conviction, drawing liquor from the bottle into her mouth as she mirrored his stance and looked out across the ocean, “I hate to say it, Isaak, but you looked much better before the poisoning. You’ve almost aged an entire decade,” tongue in cheek, her teeth caught the edge of her lesser lip as she once again cast onyx hues to him. 

Had it come from anyone else, the working tick in her jaw might have become a much greater threat than the sharp tongue that rested behind slightly grit teeth. As it stood, it was almost expected from Isaak. Hadn’t it always been? The pair toeing the line a little too closely for almost long enough for it to be comical. “That’ll cost you far more than you’re willing to part with,” She mocks, tongue in cheek as she leans a little closer, “We both know you’d be nothing without that ego of yours.”