Jack Hayes

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth
No grave can hold my body down

Ah, the job of a journalist. What a wonderful and terrible thing for those like Jack. How they could spin such tales! It was rare for Jack to meet a journalist who had yet to portray the interviewee in a hundred percent honest light. Not that those journalist were being untruthful it was simply that they could make someone seen differently with the tone of their writing style. It was honestly a remarkable thing to the vampire. How very... entertaining it was for him. It was a rare thing for Jack to allow interviews, not that he minded, it was nearly impossible to dig up solid rumors on the undead man. He was simply a busy man, if he were to entertain every reporter that came knocking at his door, he would never get anything done. He also did especially enjoy being awake this late in the day, his bones were already becoming sluggish. He always slept like the literal dead when he stayed up too late, the man practically immovable once his eyes fell shut. It was something he didn't care for.

Still, he had offered Miss Dabney an interview and he was here to follow through with it.

She was, perhaps, the most attentive interviewer he had met since his time with the company, the woman nodding where appropriate and interjecting her own sense of praise. Despite his love for warfare, he couldn't help but feel the pride swell in him, to know that his drones were capable of not only destruction but the research that could change the tide of space exploration. Though, he expected that their conversation wouldn't linger on NASA or the research crews that worked with him. No, it would be too easy. At least Jack loved a challenge. The topic of today's interview rears it's ugly head, the man hardly surprised in the least that Isadore had found the rumors that circulated the businessman. Still, his brows arch slightly in her direction, that loose smile still hanging on his lips as she watches her carefully.

This one... he was certain could pose a problem in the future and yet, he was rather enjoying someone going head to head with him. She hardly seemed frightened of him, at least not yet.

Leaning forward, his hands steeple just below his jaw, he watches her with his ice blue eyes for a long moment before a small chuckle escapes his lips, "My dear, it is well known in the business world that even investors are willing to sell off portions of research to earn a buck. The drones you are referring to are, in fact, part of my research but they are not drones my company has built. It may look like mine but I can assure you, they aren't the same. That's why I only allow my investors a small portion of the research," he shrugs, "You can't expect humanity to work together and not attempt to profit off each other," he tacks on, a light simper remaining on his lips. It was true. He didn't lie. How easy humans were to manipulate into what he wanted. Watching the utter defeat on them after they realized the research they had sold to profit off was incomplete... well, let's just say Jack rather delighted in such things.

This is when he pushes to a standing position, his blue eyes watching her with a predatory gaze before he glances at the cart in the corner holding his liquor. Oh, how utterly intoxicating her scent was! He can hear her heartbeat thunder in her chest, that spike of adrenaline quite delicious as he watches her. Jack can see the way she stiffens in her seat as she fights every instinct in her body to flee or to fight. It was, perhaps, one of his favorite scents. The lingering scent of fear even when someone would try and hide it. When he turns away from her, his back facing her direction, he can't help but allow a slight smirk touch his features while he hides his face from Miss Dabney. That light breath exhaling from her lips heard easily with his heightened senses.

Pouring himself a drink, he turns back towards the woman, that carefree smile firmly in place as he watches her. When she agrees to a drink, his brows flick up in surprise briefly before he sets the crystal glass down, the amber liquid sloshing slightly as he pours another. Lifting both glasses again, he questions her offhandedly, her response almost... predicted as he prowls back towards her. The glint in her eye sends a delighted rush through him, oh what a plucky human! She was either incredibly stupid or brave, it was perhaps a combination of the two, he wasn't sure. Handing her the room temperature bourbon, he moves back to his seat, "Apologies, I don't have ice on hand, I don't prefer my liquids chilled," he says, his eyes flashing briefly at his own self-made joke, not that Isadore would know what he was referring to, or maybe... she highly suspected him of being an undead. It remained to be seen.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he takes a whiff, allowing the scent of alcohol to burn away the distraction of her blood pumping through her heart, "Miss Dabney, if you think I've been untruthful in any of my statements, please tell me. I'm happy to tell you whatever you want," he smiles, his head tilting slightly, "And as for other journalists, I have met a few but I do have to admit, you are the first I've allowed into my office to interview me," he states, leaning forward and extending a glass to knock against hers, "I only agreed to your interview because you were incredibly determined, I had a sneaking suspicion you would have found your way to my office even if I hadn't invited you," he chuckles lightly before taking a sip of the bourbon.

"Now, is there anything else you would like to know?"