Jesper has been here long enough that he's suspicious when he gets weird visions in his dreams. He remembers the nightmare and memory shares all too well, so when the creepy figure shows up, after he looks into a teacup, all he can think is fuck, here we go again. The thing is when he wakes up, it isn't immediately obvious whether it's real or not. He doesn't get hit with anything obvious. It takes him a day or so before things begin to happen.
Jesper walks by gambling halls every single day and he has learned how to move past them. He always goes quickly. It doesn't have to be just full gambling areas, anywhere that people are playing games, their eager faces waiting for a win, it calls to him. He catches his breath because no matter how long it's been, he's still who he is. It isn't easy, but it is something he's been controlling.
He is walking down the street when the whispers come. Since super hearing has become an occasional problem, he wonders if it's that, bracing, but instead the whispers are clear as day. Look, they say, and he does, twisting his head around to see a gambling table. You're better now, aren't you? It's been so long. You can prove it to yourself, prove it to everyone. You can play without going too far. Don't you want to know? Jesper hasn't felt this compulsion in months and it makes it hard for him to swallow.
The problem is that he never really has impulse control. With those words, it cuts through his logic, because he does want to prove it. He does want to know. It's an easy way of convincing him. Jesper looks almost like a moth to a flame, unable to stop himself, and having no interest in doing so. He sits down at a table, gray eyes glowing with pleasure he'd been keeping away so long, his smile brittle. "Let's do this."
Maybe you catch him before he goes in, but he has this hungry look, like nothing can stop him. Maybe you catch him at the end of the first night, when everyone else has gone home and the business is closed, and yet Jesper hovers outside of it, still starving. All his money is gone, promises made for more tomorrow, but he wants to bang on the door, demand more. He doesn't make it home that first night. He sleeps right there, back against the nearby wall, his jacket put around him like a blanket. He sleeps on the street a few times, afraid of going home.
Over the next few days he can always be found there. He wins and he wins and he wins and then he loses just as much. Every time he is on a roll, Jesper reaches out to touch the other people playing, telling them to stay. One more hand. Tempting. If you come to see him, he will do the same to you. Just one time. It'll be fun.
Jesper usually is difficult to catch when he decides to steal, and he has been avoiding doing that since coming to Cadens. He has to live here, he has to do the right thing. But as his desperation grows and his eyes get a little wild, his attention is brittle. He still can telekinetically take things when the person isn't looking, but anyone could bump into him and find he has items he shouldn't stashed in his pockets and his hands.
Free Cities - OTA - tw for gambling addiction
Jesper walks by gambling halls every single day and he has learned how to move past them. He always goes quickly. It doesn't have to be just full gambling areas, anywhere that people are playing games, their eager faces waiting for a win, it calls to him. He catches his breath because no matter how long it's been, he's still who he is. It isn't easy, but it is something he's been controlling.
He is walking down the street when the whispers come. Since super hearing has become an occasional problem, he wonders if it's that, bracing, but instead the whispers are clear as day. Look, they say, and he does, twisting his head around to see a gambling table. You're better now, aren't you? It's been so long. You can prove it to yourself, prove it to everyone. You can play without going too far. Don't you want to know? Jesper hasn't felt this compulsion in months and it makes it hard for him to swallow.
The problem is that he never really has impulse control. With those words, it cuts through his logic, because he does want to prove it. He does want to know. It's an easy way of convincing him. Jesper looks almost like a moth to a flame, unable to stop himself, and having no interest in doing so. He sits down at a table, gray eyes glowing with pleasure he'd been keeping away so long, his smile brittle. "Let's do this."
Maybe you catch him before he goes in, but he has this hungry look, like nothing can stop him. Maybe you catch him at the end of the first night, when everyone else has gone home and the business is closed, and yet Jesper hovers outside of it, still starving. All his money is gone, promises made for more tomorrow, but he wants to bang on the door, demand more. He doesn't make it home that first night. He sleeps right there, back against the nearby wall, his jacket put around him like a blanket. He sleeps on the street a few times, afraid of going home.
Over the next few days he can always be found there. He wins and he wins and he wins and then he loses just as much. Every time he is on a roll, Jesper reaches out to touch the other people playing, telling them to stay. One more hand. Tempting. If you come to see him, he will do the same to you. Just one time. It'll be fun.
Jesper usually is difficult to catch when he decides to steal, and he has been avoiding doing that since coming to Cadens. He has to live here, he has to do the right thing. But as his desperation grows and his eyes get a little wild, his attention is brittle. He still can telekinetically take things when the person isn't looking, but anyone could bump into him and find he has items he shouldn't stashed in his pockets and his hands.