[b]Jack Missouri
Elevator/Atrium[/b]

Jackdaw took a right through the atrium, his lightly scarred visage turning into a slightly deeper frown when a few of the natural Vault citizens seemed to shrink away. He was beginning to get tired of the discrimination. He had naively thought that graduating, and getting a real job, would have garnered him more respect amongst the other dwellers...but that was a false dream, apparently. As his thoughts began to act up his annoyance level, the man clenched his fists, brushing roughly past a wandering Vault Dweller on his way to the elevator. Pressing the button, he entered the opening steel doors, leaning back against the wall once he was settled inside. However, a small 'ahem' alerted him instantly to another presence, and Jack opened his dark golden eyes, revealing the annoyance within the irises. Just as he thought... [b]"Oh, so Jacky-boy, you're finally alone, huh?"[/b] Two jackasses...despite their tough words, they were rather...scrawny. He almost felt bad about what he was about to do. [b]"Hey, Larry, let's show this nasty rad-blood-"[/b] This was a bit of a miracle, in some ways. He was getting pretty stressed. As the doors closed, and Jack casually slapped the 'Down' button on his way to stand fully, the supposed 'Larry' felt an inkling of regret.

_______________________________________________________

[b]Jack Missouri
Refugee Living Quarters[/b]

The elevator opened, and a few wandering Refugees, whom were simply cleaning around their rather shitty living quarters, glanced over to the doors, curious on whom was coming down. It wasn't often their quarters got visited, other than for routinely check-ups by Security Guards and, even more rarely, one of the Overseers themselves. Jackdaw exited the entrance, leaving behind two jump-suit-wearing figures, whom were both groaning in a heap. Jackdaw himself had a bruise on the side of his jaw, from a lucky hook, but otherwise, he wasn't injured. His jumpsuit seemed a bit more ruffled, if that counted. As the elevator doors closed, most-likely sending the two back up to the Atrium, Jackdaw exhaled, giving the Refs a nod, before walking over to his living quarters. The cleaning continued shortly after, the other refugees not bothered with the scene. It happened quite often amongst them;; It was simply impossible for natural Vault Citizens and Refugees to get along indefinitely.

As the door closed and locked behind him, Jack sat on his rather barren bed, his scowl slowly drifting away to reveal a slight smirk. Falling back onto the bed, the man let out a rough chuckle, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes from the low light of his room's lamp. [b]"Damn. I'm getting too old for this shit..."[/b] He, muffled by his jumpsuit's fabric, quoted one of his father's old quotes. Sighing, he dropped his arms, golden eyes slowly closing. A nap wouldn't hurt, right? But should he be napping at such an important time? Ugh.

He sat back up, swift hands nimbly unlocking the nightstand beside his bed. Reaching into the darkness, he pulled out a [url=http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/fallout/images/b/ba/Weathered10mmFNV2.png/revision/latest?cb=20110208194444]weathered-looking 10mm[/url]. [b]"Might as well."[/b] He muttered under his breath, standing. Jack grabbed the cleaning kit from out of the nightstand, before closing the safe-keeping department. Sitting himself in his work-desk, the man rested both objects on the desk's rough wooden surface, before expertly flipping the gun between his fingers, slamming his left palm against the side. The loaded magazine smoothly slid out, from years of greasing and shining, and with his eyes narrowed in concentration, Jackdaw began the slow, arduous process...