So far, Jack thinks he's been settling well enough into his new job here. It hadn't taken him long to pick up the card games, at least not to some passable skill, and taking care of the occasional drunk and disorderlies were nothing compared to some of the aggressive types he's had to deal with in the past. It might not seem like it to anyone from different circumstances, but he thinks it's a nice change of pace from where he came, and what he gets to look forward to upon leaving the City again.

Plus, the uniform is nothing if not flattering. He still isn't the kind of guy to particularly care about that sort of thing, but it's still something he notices, or rather something he's learned to notice since he first ended up here.

His lack of voice, however, is still something of a drawback — not a major one, not yet, just enough to cause him worry. He's managed to keep himself from vocalizing at all, thankfully, but sometimes he wonders if it's only a matter of time before that Big Daddy roar escapes his mangled throat.

Of course, it's not something he needs to worry about now. He has work to do, cards to deal and an atmosphere to help maintain, and if his utter silence helps him in that by keeping others from wanting to fuck with him, then he's ultimately better off for it.