At this point, Jasper thinks you have to be pulling some sort of prank on him.

That, or the universe finally had enough of his sass and wants him to bash his own skull in. Either way, you’re some breed of crazy he’s never seen before – and not even in a bad way, just … god, he thinks you’re weird. There’s just no other way to put it.

You’re unpredictable, plain and simple. Villains generally avoid each other unless they’re part of the same organization – mind their own business, until someone picks a fight or they get hyped up on remnants of teenage angst. But you? From day one, you’ve been butting heads with him and interrupting his schemes. Jasper wants to call it harassment. It feels like harassment. Felt, at least.

Because now? He’s just itchy. Like a dozen mosquitoes bit into his brain, and now he’s got a billion bug bites he wants to scratch into oblivion. Itchy, because he’d been certain he had everyone and everything figured out – and then you threw him the world’s biggest, most annoying curveball.

Jasper can’t tell if he wants to knock you into next week, or sit you down and pry open that odd little mind of yours. It’s probably both. Yeah – both, at the same time. It’s not even a simple want, it’s a need at this point. Jasper has to pick apart your mechanisms, figure out what makes your inner clock tick.

Understand why you’re standing before him yet again, holding up his latest scheme just to argue. He doesn’t hate you, oddly enough – but he doesn’t really like you either. You might just be Pandora’s friggin’ box, knowing his luck. Jasper doesn’t know if that thought makes you more intriguing, or if it makes him want to waltz right into oncoming traffic tomorrow. Either way, he’s not a patient guy, nor does he have a gram of tact in his bones.

“...Uh-huh, so – you one fry short of a happy meal or what?”