When can // open // I rest

[jacob w.c.]

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JACOB WICKLIFF CORLEONE

As Caesar kept talking, Jacob let out a soft sigh and glanced towards the man. "Bein' 'ere longer don' make ya' my superior, Caesar. Your rank would n', as it turns out, we're at the same level," he huffed. At his next comment, Jacob let out a soft chuckle. Caesar, I'm not from the country, unless you consider New York City and New Jersey the deep south," he answered, his voice ringing with a clear New Yorker's accent.It'd been quite some time since he used his natural voice outside of when he spoke Italian and it felt a bit odd but it was still just as strong as it'd been when he was little. He'd adapted his voice so many times he could replicate almost any accent he'd spent a considerable amount of time in. He'd even been able to replicate Pincher's accent recently, though he didn't do it often. He mostly stuck to his Southern accent, both for his own protection and out of a sort of respect to his Pa. As though if Jacob carried on his voice, he wasn't totally gone. "Last I checked, I ain't the one who's tryin' ta' bother all these people. If ya' 'ave so much work ta' do, go do it. I ain't gonna' stop ya' n' I know I've done all I need so ya' can leave whenever ya' like. It don' bother me one bit," he replied, closing his eyes once again and yawning. Just before he began to drift off to sleep, though, he added, "Bless your heart for workin' so hard, Caesar."

TAGS • PLAYLIST • MOODBOARD • PENNED BY APRICITY

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