Jameson Jackson.
A man of his nature.
The constant fit of dark trench coats, silver molecules and pristine suits which allows his slim figure to endear the power he held.
His shiny, black shoes would hit the concrete ground with zero effort, creating the echoes of what seems to be the aura around him.
His hair was slimly combed back, allowing his moustache to curl against his cheeks.
Although he doesn't speak, his eyes says everything. He marks your words more than others.
His handwriting would be cursive, almost inhabitable since there's no one who could compare.
The silver ring that stayed round his structed finger would make the reflection of sun shine into his enemy's eyes.
His bowler hat, cornering his upper face so there's nothing to be seen but his conscious smile.
Everything he does comes with a cost. Whether that would be your amazement or other people's jealousy.
He had a way to gain attention but pretends it's nothing at all.
Jameson Jackson.
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SEPTIC BULLSHIT
Fanfiction-SEQUAL TO MY 'JACKSEPTICEYE SHITS AND GIGGLES' BOOK- [.] Headcanons of all egos. [.] Will allow requests! [.] Rules will be included in the first post. [.] Comment your own Headcanons and I'll make it noticeable! -Please be kind and friendly. This...
