baby said

i could be the reason you can't sleep at night

Well, here they were nearly halfway through Leafchange and Flora still hadn't officially started repairs on the Hanged Man. Now some people might accuse the queen of having been avoiding it because of all the physical work it was going to require, and to those people she'd politely remind them 1. who was in charge, and 2. all the other repairs that had taken priority.

But, alright fine, maybe she had been avoiding it a little bit too.

Standing with her arms folded across a fashionably oversized sweater, the Doubletake grimaced at the ruins of her bar before looking down the beach to see who might be milling about. Jack was supposedly on his way, but gods knew what time that actually meant.

"I hate it here." Flora whined before grinning playfully at the small white dragon on her shoulder. For her part, Spice just huffed a frosty breath against her bonded's golden curls. "Ugh, you're right. Fine." Stepping carefully through the debris, Flora began to pick carefully around for the lockboxes she knew had been secured carefully in the Thieves Guild.

i want to taste you again

Jack is supposedly on his way, but business doesn't grind to a halt just because things get flooded, destroyed and otherwise blown to shit. Or, well, perhaps most business does, but not Jack's. Never Jack's.

The good captain arrives just as Flora has started the heavy(ish) lifting (coincidence? you decide) and lingers, on purpose, among the fringes of the wreckage for more time than would normally be considered polite. What can he say? He's enjoying the buzz of her familiar thoughts, the last few drags of the cigarette between his lips, and the view, all at once.

"You missed something there," he rumbles eventually, exhaling a whorl of smoke and stepping on the butt of the cigarette, before stepping forward and lifting an errant plank to reveal one of the shiny lockboxes she's been looking for.

"Place is a fuckin' mess, Flora." Insert Captain Obvious joke here.

Straightening and handing her the box, he ops to deal with the situation with chain smoking, offering her out a smoke as he places the second between his lips.

like a secret or a sin

JACK

Given the choice, Naseem would prefer not to deal with Zahir’s bitching before noon, and certainly not before a stiff drink. Unfortunately, a new home came with new hiding places to find. She had yet to set up residence in a local watering hole, and she and Zahir usually kept close to one another before establishing a base of operations.

Zahir, being boring, and also an asshole, had tried to argue that they needed to lay low and find somewhere they could keep one ear to the winds and the other close to the ground. Naseem, being far wiser and not a total boring loser, had persuasively and deftly argued the case for instead finding a local drinkery to replenish their spirits in. (The tried and tested method of being impossibly annoying until Zahir gave in had yet to let her down.)

And hey, the sun was shining, and this new home filled with natural beauty at every turn. She walked along the beachfront humming a victory march, a swagger in her step. Today was going to be a good day. She could just feel it.

“It’s hot,” Zahir whined from behind, huffing in a way he did only in Naseem’s exclusive company. Ae was lagging, cane unsteady on the sand, the heat and humidity leaving aer face sticky and aer usually immaculate makeup sagging. For two seconds, Naseem felt bad for insisting, both on Torchline and on the bar. Then, up ahead, he glimpsed a shimmer of golden hair shining white in the sun. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn't look away. At once he forgot any guilt or regret he'd let creep in.

“We’ve got company,” Naseem breathed, remembering how new places meant new people, new excitements, a thousand new pleasures to discover and brand new people to find them in. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Zahir immediately straighten, the exhaustion wiped clean from aer pose and expression; ae was The Fixer again, meticulously put together, unbothered by heat, unevening footing, anything pesky nature could throw aer way. Naseem grinned. She could feel herself go loose, shoulders back, the drawl fill her throat ready to honey words, all the old habits slipping lovingly back into place. She had her foil, and ae aers.  

Deep breath. Big smile— “Heyyyyyyy,” Naseem called out in a weighty drawl, jogging out across the sand to the stranger with the big blonde hair, catching sight of the second figure as she went. Oh dear: both were gorgeous. However would she cope? She came to a halt a few meters from the pair of them, disinterested in the wreckage about her, eyes only for these two guardian angels who would lead her to a good time. “Hi. Hello. I was wondering if you could tell me where The Hanged Man is? New in town. And maybe I could buy either of you - or both - a drink…?”

i could be the reason you can't sleep at night

For the last few moments or so, Flora had tried to 'pretty-up' her movements—making her movements long and lean and elegant—so that the Captain might not catch her in a moment of ugliness when he did finally arrive. So it was that she turned dancer-like on one toe at the sound of his voice with a smile on her lips. "What would I ever do without you?" She purred before kneeling down to extract said boxes. Though her thoughts had turned salacious given her position at knee height, his comment had the Doubletake rolling her eyes. "Gee, you think?"

Before she could say more, both sound and movement caught Flora's attention. Standing, her thoughts tugged mercilessly away from whatever liaison with the Captain she might have had, Flora shoved the box back into Jack's hands that the might somehow make it less conspicuous as she stepped forward in an attempt to draw attention.

"Heyyyyyyyyyy yourself." She called out, flashing a bright smile to Naseem. "You're lookin' at it, babes." Flora answered with the sort of sigh that begged for a laugh-track to follow. "We've...err, been a bit preoccupied since the island got hit." She explains with an easy shrug. "But you know...I just bet I can find an unbroken bottle of something around here."

i want to taste you again

"I do think," Jack confirms, fully committed to his role as the asshole in all of this, though he's soon distracted by the heady pink colouring Flora's thoughts as he finds her on her knees before him.

With a tilt of his head as if he's looking for further items in the wreckage (he's not, but the view of Flora's décolletage is nothing to sniff at), only as two new lines of thought twang through the webs of his telepathy does Jack turn, a split second before one of them speaks, one might note.

Flora leads the welcome wagon, giving Jack a chance to swear softly at the lockbox thrust against his middle before tucking it under his arm, the captain gazing over the two strangers as if deciding whether or not they constitute an immediate threat.

They do not, as it happens (in Jack's not so humble opinion, anyway) and he wrinkles his nose out at what's left of the Hanged Man. "Reckon the bar would have been about here," he rumbles, taking half a dozen steps into the wreckage and kicking at some of the wood and debris. "If there was anythin' unbroken, though, you know the Torchers would've nicked it by now."

like a secret or a sin

JACK

The list of things Zahir disliked was a very, very long one, but somewhere near the top was being left behind. It took him a good minute to catch up in the wake of Naseem’s jogging. Ae caught the impression of the conversation happening up ahead, but he was more interested in the non-verbal particulars of the scene unfolding before him: the way these people moved, spoke, conducted themselves, the small details like the tattoo of a scar beneath one’s eye, marrying these aspects against the stories he’d overhead in their time in Torchline so far, and then again against those grander stories that had made it to other parts of the world Zahir had haunted.

What a coincidence. Just the people they’d come looking for, but did not for a second expect to encounter in person.

Flanking Naseem’s shoulder, a step or two behind, Zahir came to a standstill and watched his travelling companion shoot her shot, entirely casual, using the full-bodied drawl she oft turned on sailors and the like. Zahir could whisper low in her ear who ae suspected these strangers were, but ae felt ae was owed some petty revenge. Not to mention Naseem did her best work outside of the formality of monarchy— that was Zahir’s remit. Zahir, for his part, bowed a polite nod to the one whom he suspected was Queen Flora. To the other, he gave a different kind of nod, holding eye contact, watching; like a cat encountering another, considering. Ae got the impression that this second stranger might well be the illustrious Captain Jack ae had heard about. Someone whose positive regard mattered to them and their new home even more so than its queen.

A bright smile in return, and Naseem was away. By Dygra, he’d missed non-Zahir people. A smile from a stranger and she was home.

He hammed up his own disappointment at the bar being in ruins, clutching at his heart, mirroring Flora’s sigh with a whine of despair. “This is grave news, indeed,” Naseem breathed, stepping across the debris, closer. To Jack, he gave another, silly smile. He did not miss how this stranger said Torchers, setting himself apart from the group. To Flora, she proffered her hand, to kiss or to shake, shaping her own disposition after whatever Flora gave her in turn, from the tilt of her hips to the way she held her hands.

Nothing was too much to Naseem; she bowed now, like a courtier or a noble lover, exaggerated to larger than life levels of theatre. “If there is anything myself or my companion can do to rectify this tragedy, our services are in your hands. We could not possibly make a home somewhere without a good drinkery, and besides; we’d heard our sort of people frequented this establishment.” She widened her smile, showing the gold caps on her fangs, the gems inlaid in her teeth. “And it is so lonely, starting out somewhere new. Perhaps, in return, we could ask of your company— and of course, a drink, should we find one.”

i could be the reason you can't sleep at night

As Zahir approached, Flora's aqua gaze was drawn to the shimmers of gold dotting his person like a crow, such was her almost immediate need to reach out and touch the sun-coloured adornments. Grinning in response to his nod, the queen looked down at Naseem 's offered hand with a momentary blink of surprise. Slipping her own ringed fingers against her much taller counterpart's, Flora let her thumb ghost over Naseem's skin as her eyes tracked the sparkly costume-esque jewelry adorning his fingers. "Oooh. I like these." She purred, gazing up (and up), wondering briefly if being pressed beneath this stranger would feel more like being fucked by an oak or the ocean.

Oh? Then explain the box in your arms, Flora thinks haughtily as she snaps her chin over her shoulder to look at Jack. Caging the words behind her teeth, the Doubletake instead just widens her eyes as if that might communicate her meaning just as well.

"Well, you both certainly look more than capable. I was going to call in some more godly help to fix things, but..." Hey, if the duo wanted to help, who was Flora to say no?

As for their type of people?

"And just what sorts of people are those?" Flora's tone is innocent enough as she picks her way through the debris, looking for signs of the boxes and crates that Remi usually delivered his custom gin in.

i want to taste you again

What Torcher would give a fuck about a locked box after finding free booze? Jack thinks right back at Flora, though of course all the Doubletake will receive from him is an exaggerated raise of his eyebrows. Hunkering down - with said box, thank you - to pick properly through the rubble and ruin beneath his feet for anything worth drinking or keeping, outwardly his ears and magic are sharp for all that's being said - and all that isn't.

To Zahir the good captain gives a level look right in return, his gaze slipping towards aer as if sensing the weight of eyes upon his person; a silent what's it to you? before his attention is stolen (mostly, not entirely) by the much more flamboyant of the duo. Straightening, alas with little more than a broken bottle in his hands, Jack strolls his eyes up the length of Naseem's body, clad in sunshine and silk, and he scoffs a note of approval her way.

"My kind of people," he drawls, which could be as simple as stating that he enjoys their company, or as complex as admitting we're all criminals here, love. "It'll take more'n a bit of spitshine to put this place to rights. Let's rinse what we can from here, an' come back with a crew to rebuild."

like a secret or a sin

JACK

Naseem might be a peacock of a man, but he at least never pretended to be anything else; At the praise and attention for the outfit, he positively preened, all multi-coloured dazzling grins and falsely demure eyelash batting. “And yet, somehow, I look even better out of them, would you believe it,” she batted back without missing a beat. “Guess you’ll just have to try them on. And I shall be, ever so cruelly, forced to take things off. If we can find us a bottle of something, we could even make a game of poker of it; pretend the inevitable is out of our hands.”

She didn’t miss the eye flashing passed between Flora and Jack. It was very inspiring, in fact. How to get in the middle of that…? Or on either side, she wasn’t fussy. And perhaps luck was at long and dear last back on her side, if the way she was being looked at was any measure to go by.

The brief stint as a nude model was worth it for more than the coin and the wine; she posed her best poses, tilted and tipped this and that, all whilst keeping her steady attention on Flora. Naseem got the distinct impression that if he could wrap Flora into something, Jack would follow suit, this blonde angel’s dark-eyed shadow. Yum. Naseem loved Torchline.

Before she could answer Flora’s prying, Jack interrupted with a most promising answer. Naseem gave him a long, appetite-laden smile. Yes, she quite suspected The Hanged Man was for the scar-kissed stranger’s kind of people. “We’ve come to precisely the right place then,” she answered levelly. “If there’s more where you two came from.”

Captain Jack looked back and Zahir, idiot fool that he was, swallowed. This pirate had an air about him like a vacuum, not quite gravitas, more like a sinkhole. Zahir liked him enormously, and ae did not like quick. Queen Flora ae could leave or take outside of her importance to aer continued wellbeing, which reflected little about her beyond that she was an unknown. Zahir didn’t know the first thing about Jack, either, but ae knew ae liked him. The Captain had an edge to him that felt familiar. He felt dangerous. Zahir’s kind of person.

Zahir lets all of them say their lines, lets Naseem run through her flirtations, and waits for the moment of quiet in which to step into the conversation. “Perfect. We’re no builders. But perhaps we could be of service to the two of you in other ways. Like my companion said, we’re new here. And friends make a home, no?” Introductions were, he felt, in order. “I am Zahir. My companion here is Naseem. A pleasure. We are— well, at present, between jobs. When in work, we are—”

“Entrepreneurs,” Naseem answered for him, already helping ‘rinse’ the place, poking about here and there, no doubt optimistic about that bottle Flora had hoped remained hidden from looters. Zahir gave the polite, empty smile that best suited their line of work, cold enough to signal that the pair of them were not afraid to get their hands dirty.

“Precisely.”

i could be the reason you can't sleep at night

"Do I ever." Flora purrs instantly, and though Jack will be the only one treated to the content of the Doubletake's thoughts, her mind is suddenly rife with thoughts of the three—four?—of them happily uncovering the truth of Naseem 's words. Alas, sadly Jack was right as he usually was, and despite Flora's best efforts, there was little of value left in the debris of the Hanged Man.

Not wanting to let a good thing go before it had even begun, Flora glanced pointedly around at where the Thieves Guild had once been, before glancing Zahir 's way at the offered introductions. If she was bothered at all at having to introduce herself it didn't show; with a smile and a flash of teeth, the queen coquettishly raised a single shoulder and trilled out a greeting. "Flora. A pleasure." So saying, she turned on her heel and ventured toward the partially-standing doorframe that indicated one of her former backrooms and continued to search for a bottle of—gods did she want to see if Naseem was telling the truth—anything.

i want to taste you again

Were it the sort of thing said out loud, Jack might have kindly slipped a knife between Zahir's ribs for painting him with the moniker of pirate. Alas, it is neither the time nor the place (or the context) for Jack to explain to aer in no uncertain terms why he was not, and would never be, the sort of businessman to rub elbows with the types of grubby peasants who liked to blow holes in his ship.

And so while Naseem and Flora flirt about - and the former wouldn't be wrong about him following in the Doubletake's wake, though not even Jack can say why these days - the good captain busies himself with a last ditch investigation, letting the broken bottle slip from his fingers. "Torchline's full of places for a couple of entrepreneurs to make their fortune," he rumbles, straightening up (giving up, in truth) at last.

"An' while there's a lot more like the two of us, none of 'em quite come up to par." Said with an air of easy confidence, Jack gazes back towards the shorline. "Got enough liquor for a good night on deck of The Ark," he continues. "If there are any takers."

like a secret or a sin

JACK

NASEEM

Life's a
party

Naseem, for his part, trailed Flora. Shamelessly so. He didn’t make much effort to pretend to be being all that helpful, toeing this and that, occasionally peering at the sand as if strategising. Being useful would set the wrong kind of expectations. Cultivating the persona of a lout took a lot of effort, thank you very much. This was for the good of his reputation.

And when Flora introduced herself, he made some offhand comment, ‘Flora? Of course it’s Flora. Flowers could only wish to be so beautiful. They must model themselves after you’, or some such thing, the particulars mattering little. Naseem had connected the dots, somewhat, between the people before him and the queen of many tales, and Jack and his Ark to the Captain Jack of tales not bound by the decorum afforded to a queen. But his bowing and scraping was always only for show. Titles seemed to get in the way of a good time. So he made no move to treat Flora with more austere manners, for surely queens needed to let their hair down on occasion, no?

And, thankfully, he didn’t have to play at useless usefulness long. The moment Jack proposed going back to his, Naseem gave up all semblance of trying. “Absolutely there are takers. Drink and a party? On a boat? Dreamy. Sailors love me,” Naseem announced, confidence unwavering. It was good manners alone that had her looking to Flora, voice dripping with theatrical chivalry when he added, “Provided m’lady would like to go, of course. We’ve a game to play, after all. You reckon your Ark has a deck of cards anywhere, my new saint of a good time?”

and I'm
gate-crashing