jakedillonok

[jakedillonok]

"a bigger and longer marble? that'd be a feat. but your concern for my ass is noted." a little puff of air escaped his nose, the closest thing he'd get to a full blown laugh and a rarity for jake. he reserved his laughs for three times per calendar year and that meant he had to be really choosy on who got them, didn't it? "i don't think you'd want me loose rain. i think its in everyone's best interest i stay tight."

jake raised his eyebrow when she approached his window, but snorted again at her pizza defense. "remains to be seen. if i try it and it's bad i will be letting you know that perhaps your strengths lie elsewhere." he stepped away from the window to wander back into his ingredient den, searching for the small sack of flour. he filled up a cup with it, dusting off the top for a clean finish. "why do i have to expect it to taste a little funny?" he asked as he came back, offering her the cup. "soup needs ten more minutes. you want to wait to try some?" he liked rain enough to spend the idle time with her.

"okay," she snickered. "remind me to bring you a bigger and longer one to aid with the loosening, then. can't have you walking around with an asshole trying to glue itself together, hey?" rain wasn't sure how their conversation graduated from missing flour and unfinished soup to marbles up someone's ass, but more often than not, it was always jake's fault so she'd settle with that and leave the ass-shoving topic in the past. they were better off that way.

she then shoved away from the counter and sauntered over to the window, bracing herself on one elbow and bending down to meet his gaze. "i'll keep in mind your salt order, but expect it to taste a little funny. my pizza's great, man, especially with all that salt at my disposal? come on." and then, in a quieter voice, she added, "so when's the soup done?"

[jakedillonok]

"You disrespect my soup?" Jake asked, and it was a joke though it might not have sounded like it. He wasn't beyond a little insider mob humor when he could get away with it. The only issue remained that Jake only had two tones: neutral and furious. "Don't worry, the end has been nigh for the past two years. It'll continue to be nigh for the next twenty." He paused. "Unless we die tonight. In which case, cheers."

He liked Jude. He liked Jude because she brought him good things, things that he needed, right when he happened to need them. Much like how he saw himself, Jude was helpful, and it was a quality that Jake held in high esteem. He didn't much care why, only that the outcome benefitted him. If he had to take a stab in the dark he'd figure that Jude, like the rest of them, was on a never-ending quest for normalcy in a world of ruin.

Jake appeared from around the corner, coming out of the swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the diner. The doors squeaked as they swung open and he eagerly opened both bags to check their contents. A rare smile graced his lips as he hummed in approval. "You want soup?"

As she walked into the diner, Jude was met with a semblance life. Warmth. She sniffed the air. Swallowed a pang of hunger that settled in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t looking to indulge. Hunger was delicious, sharp—kept her focused. Jude settled on the serving window that jutted out of the wall. Sharp elbows, a mouth twisted into something like a smirk.

“Soup?” Jude questioned as if she had been insulted. “Fuck, I guess the end really is nigh.” Her tone dripped with indifference rather than pretention. Having grown up hungry, poor—she expected nothing, knew better than to desire anything more. 

There was no gentleness to be found in the way Jude’s hands, rough from a day's work dumped two small sacks on the nearest surface. “Salt from a dodgy-looking pond. Eggs. Delicious.” She had cultivated as much as she could from very little. Moved through processes she had remembered from another time, just more robust than before. A little broken. If she was not to falter, she would need to be consumed by her purpose. Ignore the decay her fingers found. 

“For your masterpieces, Chef Ramsay.”

[jakedillonok]

[jakedillonok]

Jake didn't like Conor. He didn't like most people, to be fair, but Conor was unfortunately among the majority. Or perhaps he was in a unique camp of one, because as much as he didn't care for the man, Jake also wasn't entirely bothered by his presence. He, dare say it, even almost liked the fact that Conor didn't seem to care that they clearly didn't match. Like two big cats on the savannah, they mostly left each other alone, and there was a humbling respect in that. So when Jake glared through the serving window and saw Conor sitting down at the counter, his hard stare softened just a bit and he turned away to stir his soup. He brought the spoon up to his lips to taste it— it was close. Maybe 15 more minutes.

"Very astute," Jake teased, though it would be hard for anyone who didn't know him to decipher the flat tone. "I have other things but I'm not particularly interested in making them. Besides, give me fifteen and the soup will be ready."

Ah, but then Conor hit the jackpot, the old, rusty key to get Jake talking. Normally a very brief man, he could go on for quite some time about whatever meal he was preparing that day. "It's a take on French Onion, but with the ingredients I have available. Special because the cheese takes a long time to make and we don't often get it, and the croutons had to be baked, but I think it'll be close to what you'd expect to see." Jake came out of the kitchen and flipped over a clean glass, filling it with water and sliding it across the counter for Conor. "Server is out today so you get me. Busy today?"

Conor didn't know if he liked Jake. Okay, that wasn't totally true - he didn't like him. But he also didn't know if he disliked the man. The two of them were very different people, or at least Conor thought so, but were they? Neither of them tried to be anything other than who they were. They didn't care if other people liked them, didn't try and keep the more prickly part of their personalities at bay, and while Conor didn't always like the way Jake conducted himself, he had a respect for it. And he realized as he entered the diner and heard Jake's voice that that respect actually did make Conor like him - a little bit at least, even when he felt frustrated with the man at the same time.

And another thing that Conor respected about Jake was that he felt passionate about something. It was clear he liked cooking, and Conor understood that feeling because it was the same way he had felt about writing. If paper weren't so scarce, he might try doing that here, but telling stories of horror didn't feel quite the same now that he was living one in real life. And Jake was good at it too. The moment Conor entered the diner, he smelled the aroma of the soup cooking, and his stomach growled in response. Sitting at the counter in the diner, Conor couldn't help but smile at Jake's words; there he was not giving a damn again. "I'm guessing that was a rhetorical question," Conor replied. "It's soup or nothing, isn't it? Luckily I'm in the mood for soup." He had other options, not a lot, sure, but there were others. But Conor thought soup sounded perfect on this cold day. "What kind of soup is it?" he asked Jake.

[jakedillonok]

"i think it would tighten more than anything else," he returned, as deadpanned as ever, like he was reading off numbers at a particularly morose game of bingo.

but he was considering this deal. flour wasn't as hard to come by as salt was, and he was running low. what would food taste like without salt? it would be a tragedy on par with death. food sans salt was a worse fate to him than the monsters that roamed the streets at night. "I'll make that deal, but I'll be holding you to it." and he meant it. it was reinforced with a casual sincerity that seemed far too serious for an exchange of salt for flour, but if there was one habit that died hard, it was his ability to collect.

"you can keep your pizza, i don't trust that you know what you're doing and i'd rather lose a finger than eat shit pizza." it wasn't said meanly, but like most things Jake said, it was mean regardless.

rain quirked her eyebrows once in response to his question, hopefully a universal signal of yes, dude, i do want a cup of flour because repeating her words didn't hold the same appeal as it used to when she was much younger — especially now that she'd realized how stupid she sounded, offering fucking marbles in exchange for consumable items.

she clenched her jaws around the laughter threatening to burst out of her mouth, rolling her eyes once as she plopped herself on one of the stools nearby. "i don't know, man. maybe? might help you loosen up a little bit or something—" she coughed over her words, interrupting herself before she could say more.

"it's been gloomy these past couple of days. unless you want salt from fire, i don't have any yet." she sifted her fingers through her hair, curling it into a fist at the crown of her head. "when the sun comes out, i'll make sure to reserve you a jar— okay, and a slice of the pizza i'm trying to make. let me know if you'd like some squirrel meat on yours."

[jakedillonok]

was she looking for the flour? behind the diner counter? like he was some bozo who didn't know how to run a tight ship and kept his flour all out in the open willy nilly? "you want a cup of flour?" he repeated, verifying that he'd heard her correctly. It wasn't that outlandish a request, but he was a little insulted that she wasn't here for his soup.

jake's nose scrunched up at the offered marble. "rain, what the fuck would i do with a marble. shove it up my asshole? I don't need a marble. trade something useful. you got any fresh vegetables or salt? always looking for salt." why did she need the flour anyway? she must have been baking something. interesting. "what are you making with it?" he asked, turning away from the window to give his soup an idle stir.

three years. three years of living in this town and rain still hadn't mastered the art of walking without breathing. with her hand suspended over the counter in search of a little something for her little project back home, rain pursed her lips and cleared her throat.

the stealth of a scheming cat was much harder to replicate in smaller areas, she figured.

"you got flour?" she asked, properly admonished despite the lack of it from the man. "a cup will do. i can trade, uh—" squinting, she slid her hands into the back pockets of her pants and came up with a little marble she'd picked up from the riverbank yesterday. "—this?"

[jakedillonok]

The soup wasn't ready yet.

The diner smelled good. It was a homey, comforting scent that slipped out from the kitchen and wandered out the door, drawing people in . He'd started cooking it earlier that day, but this particular soup took a while on the heat, and Jake was nothing if not very specific with his rituals. Everyone in the doomed town knew that every now and then, Jake would get to making something special. When it happened, it was best not to rush his process. In fact, it was critical not to rush his process. Several people found out the hard way. So, the soup was not ready yet. It was a phrase he'd repeated several times already to everyone who entered looking for the source of the scent. And alas, here he was, about to say it again.

"The soup isn't ready yet," he grunted, peering out of the serving window with a frown on his face and a furrow in his brow. "Unless you want something else." His words were inviting, but the tone bled something different: don't want something else.

[jakedillonok]

⸻ Logan Lerman, 28, cis man, he/him ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of JAKE DILLON. they are TWENTY-EIGHT, and have been missing for TWO YEARS. when the sun rises, they work as A COOK. rumors in town say they can be BLUNT and HELPFUL. they chose to live in THE DINER, and have an uncanny resemblance to Aurthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption), Carmy (The Bear), Sierra Six (The Gray Man). can they survive another night ?… [ ⸻ Jell, 30, pst, she/her, no triggers ; 

Ah, the life of a mobster. Jake grew up in the world of organized crime, as a son of the head honcho himself. He has two brothers and three sisters and boy oh boy are they a dysfunctional family. Fighting and backstabbing like you wouldn't believe, Jake learned how to get ahead by any means necessary at a young age.

While his brothers and sisters generally took to the more "business" side of the family, Jake had a unique talent for the dirty work. Intimidation, collection, other activities of a more violent nature, those all began to fall under Jake's umbrella.

He's got a real 'fuck around and find out' energy about him. Despite him not exactly looking like mob muscle should, most people can tell within a few minutes of meeting Jake that he's not someone to mess with. He's got a very understated but strong confidence to him. No one wanted a visit from Jake Dillon. It became the ultimate threat of the Dillon family. Beyond that, he wasn't really...great with people. Not a people person, that Jake. Most of his time was spent saying exactly the wrong thing and neither caring nor realizing. Most of his family would apologize on his behalf. 'Oh, sorry, that's just how he is'. Well, yeah! How the hell else was he supposed to be?

As naturally as being the Dillon family enforcer came to him, Jake didn't really want that kind of life. He didn't so much enjoy the violence, it was just what he was supposed to do. His job, at the end of the day, was to keep people in line and he did it well. It wasn't like he was haunted or felt bad, necessarily. He just...had bigger aspirations, you know? Anyone can pick up a bat and smash a head, if you ask him.

His passions lay elsewhere, in food as it turned out. He loved to cook. He spent most of his free time making elaborate meals that no one ate in the big family kitchen. It was all he really wanted to do and when Jake was 25 he realized, in the way most people do, that he had agency and could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Who was going to stop him? He was the scary, unchecked muscle of this family! Who were they going to send after him, himself?

So he left. He didn't tell anyone, just packed a few bags and set out on a journey. His family could certainly try to bring him back, but he was confident enough that they wouldn't have anyone who could drag him back howling and screeching. He set off for the other side of the country, LA bound, but unfortunately got quite...quite sidetracked.

Now he's here, and he's everyone's begrudging problem. Jake is not a nice guy. He's not easy to be friends with, he's not easy to hang out with, he's certainly not the one you go to when you're feeling down. But he's good at keeping people fed, makes surprisingly good meals with the food they're able to have, and will lend a helping hand if someone needs it.

He hasn't shared his past with people here. Still trying to put it behind him, Jake maintains that he's just a chef from New York. But over the past two years, people would have definitely noticed there's something off about him. Quick to end fights by getting involved, a strange lack of disgust or sadness when it comes to cleaning up the dead, and the flash of something dark behind his eyes every now and then.

Below are some plot ideas and connections to get us started but I'm sure there are plenty more so hit me up with all your ideas!

Begrudging friend: this person has truly tried their hardest to be Jake's friend, perhaps oblivious or simply doesn't care that Jake seems to be more annoyed by their presence than anything else. But unfortunately for Jake this person has indeed succeeded in worming their way into his inner circle of care and he would be ferally defensive of them should the need arise.

The Safe Place: This person has identified Jake as someone who is stronger and more dangerous than he looks. Because of this, the diner has become their safe place, a spot where they feel protected.

The Enemies: They do NOT get along. They've gotten into a few fights and mostly stay out of each other's orbits but every now and then they have to interact and it is never a pleasant time! This can either stay an enemy connection, or evolve into enemies with benefits or frenemies, down for anything!

The Hook-ups: open to muses of any gender! Jake doesn't form attachments very easily but he does like the familiarity of knowing someone and working with them.

[jakedillonok]

logan lerman as jonah heidelbaum in hunters (season 2, episode 8)

[jakedillonok]

I’m actually really fun once you get to know me (takes 3-4 years).

[jakedillonok]

i am being hunted by a persistence predator called the consequences of my actions

[jakedillonok]

KYLE GALLNER as BENSON in THE PASSENGER