[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjQ4LjVhMzUzNS5TbUZqYXlCVGJHRjBaU0JoYm1RZ1UyaGhaRzkzLjAA/seven-deadly-sins.regular.png[/img][/center]
[color=708090][center][b]Lawman LV.1[/b][/center][/color]
[center][b][color=yellow]Morning[/color] of the Second Day[/b][/center]
[center][b]Location[/b][/center]
[center]The Barrel Roll[/center]
[center]Tag and Mention: [@RokkuHoshi] (Minecraft Steve), [@DracoLunaris] (Taric), [@Guardian Angel Haruki] (Shantae)  [/center]
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	Jack Slate's own intrigue into the pint sized self proclaimed genie's magic was cut short as Steve's words reached him and slowly sank in. Right eye twitching every so slightly Jack's grip began to tighten around his glass, so much so he had to slid it to the other side of the table to avoid shattering it. On the floor Shadow's ears perked up and he stared with his cold blue eyes. Sensing a great deal of distress from his master but having little idea to the cause.

	Eyes cast towards his plate Jack quickly scarfed the remained of his sandwich, crushing entire jaws full of bread, lettuce, bacon, and tomato until there was nothing left but crumbs. Cheeks still bulging with the last bites of his meal the loose cannon cop reached out, ignoring his glass and going straight for the bottle. Pressing the lip of the whiskey bottle to his mouth Jack leaned his head back and began to empty the bottle's contents. 

	He breathed through his nostrils as his throat pumped, sucking down gulp after bitter auburn gulp of whiskey in a way only a man desperate for the effects of alcohol could achieve. In mere moments the mostly full bottle of high end whiskey was totally emptied and Jack knocked the butt of the bottle against the table with a loud, satisfying gasp of air. Whiping his lips on his arm and throwing down a small number of bills as a tip, Jack stood up.

	Getting to his feet he hoped to be greeted by the heavy, mind numbing hands of the alcohol he had sucked into his body. Yet his years of drinking worked against him and he felt only a partial, ever strengthening buzz. As nice as it felt it wasn't nearly enough to get his mind off what had been said.

	The blocky man didn't have any money. He didn't have any weapons. He didn't know where he was, what he should be doing, and he didn't even know what a couch was. Jack suddenly felt that the letter sent to him might not have been addressed to the wrong person after all. Because for all his short comings, all his inner demons and deep rooted flaws he at least had the means to make his own decisions and understand the basics of rudimentary furniture. 

	[color=708090]"Now that I think about it, I don't think the people at the castle really have anything against me being late. I can probably take you up there right now if you want. What do you say Taric, Shantae? Want to see what they have planned next?"[/color] Jack said, unable to hide the sudden stir crazy tone to this voice.