#rourke.ic

“Oh wow he almost sounded like a squeak toy when you squeezed his neck. Humans are kinda hilariously fragile, aren’t they?”

“Violence for violence’s sake is beastly. It’s the kind of thing ya come to expect from street gangs full of stupid adolescents and men who are barely adults vying for simple territory. There are no real stakes, no real gains, for them. Not really. It’s why they are so easy to use. Like stupid beasts.”

Rourke was far more plain in his speech with Loni than anyone else. Perhaps it was because she was not really human or maybe he just thought she shared his views on some things. It was probably a bit of both, though.

“We who strive for the top...we’ll we’re a different breed, you pardon the phrase.”

Your lifetrap is: Defectiveness

The emotion most recurring in you is shame. Shame is what you feel when your defects are exposed. You will do almost anything to avoid this shame. Consequently you go to great lengths to keep your defectiveness hidden. You feel that your defectiveness is inside you and not immediately observable. You feel like you have to pretend to be someone you are not to be accepted. You hide your true self to fit in, but that also means that many people in your life will never know the real you.

tagged by: @zorkaya​

“Someone keeps hitting my shipments. And I don’t like that I can’t figure out who.”

Rourke had been in a rather foul mood most of the day. He kept a close eye on his interests, both legitimate and otherwise, and had a keen eye for rooting out causes of any inconsistencies therein. But lately his weapon shipments had been getting partially lifted en route and his men were having a hard time finding any clues.

Of course this made him assume whoever was doing it were a crew of professionals but then came the question of who would either be stupid enough or have the balls big enough to attack him like that. Rourke had very few enemies thanks to the way he operated in making The Broker something of a boogeyman figure at least to a certain degree.

“I mean I guess that’s true. If you’ve got a nasty temper, I suppose. Never had that problem myself.”

It was a rare moment of truth spilling from his lips. A bad temper was something he did not have a problem with. However, the woman’s words did immediately bring to mind the most important person in Rourke’s life. It made an almost silly, love struck look come over his face as he turned his gaze toward the sky.

“But I do know someone who does. And I’ll be damned if he doesn’t know how to focus all that anger he’s got to a precise point: the end of his fist connecting with something that’s about to not be shaped properly.”

He chuckled at his own terrible joke and ceased cleaning the long knife in his lap. He twirled the blade and slid it into the sheath at his thigh.