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+---- Thread: i'm the storm your mama warned you about (/showthread.php?tid=12622)
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
[say]"Then you be the finest bait on two legs Caido's ever seen,"[/say] Jack says simply, glancing sidelong at her with his smile turning wolfish. Far be it for him to stop her, especially when they both know all too well how eagerly people will follow in her wake, and that's whether or not her magic is coaxing them along. He releases the lock of fiery hair he's been absently coiling around one of his fingers, as if already preparing for her departure, though he can't help but snort at the direction her thoughts take.
[say]"Spare me, I don't need to be told to know when I'm crampin' your style,"[/say] he says, the jest as rough as it is playful, and as The Ark rises to her feet Jack tips her a wink for her trouble. [say]"Don't be late,"[/say] he calls after her, voice also pitched loud enough to be heard by hungry ears pretending not to pay attention.
Truth be told, the Captain is equally as keen to see who and what she becomes apart from him, and it's no lie that personal freedom and independence is a fierce trait that flows through the both of them. Jack has always considered The Ark as going home, but much of the road he has walked has been alone, and that settles around him now like an old coat, familiar and well-worn.
He doesn't follow at first, knowing how to track her siren's wake even beyond the range of his magic - and besides that, every mind that catches a glimpse of her practically screams the direction she's walked in. So Jack sits to enjoy the last bit of sunset for a few minutes, rising to his feet at last to spark a cigarette and stroll along the boardwalk. The food stalls here are still out in full swing; lemon sorbet, cinammon grilled pineapple, seared ahi and so many others that the Captain barely bothers to glance.
In truth it's the melody of it he's more interested in, voice and thought twining together to start to patch the holes his telepathic net that have been singed and burnt away for seasons. With his hands in his pockets and his cigarette between his lips, Jack walks Torchline like it's his personal back yard, but he does continue to cast out for The Ark and where she might be finding her own amusement.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
The Ark leaves Jack behind without looking back, though the awareness of him lingers like a steady current at her spine as she slips into the flow of Torchline’s evening crowds. The boardwalk hums beneath her boots, voices rising and falling in uneven waves while lanternlight begins to take hold against the deepening dusk, and she moves through it all with an ease that draws attention without ever seeming to ask for it.
A small knot of men gathered around a low table near one of the taverns breaks just enough to make space for her as she eyes them with interest, the game already in motion and the stakes laid out in loose coin and cards worn soft at the edges. It's a card game she's played with the crew often enough, and as with the crew, she assumes these men will have equally loose lips that she might learn something from. One of them flashes her a grin that’s all invitation and calculation, and The Ark pauses just long enough to let it seem like his idea before joining them without hesitation.
The first few rounds go easily, almost laughably so, and the Ark plays with a slow, knowing smile curling at her lips as she lets the rhythm of it settle into her hands. The cards feel light between her fingers, the table warm beneath her palms, and the attention she draws is as constant as the tide; glances lingering too long, voices dipping when she leans in, the faint shift of posture from the man across from her as he decides he’s already won something more than coin, and she lets him believe it. Wins come easily at first, enough to keep her there, enough to keep him smiling as the pile in front of her grows and shrinks and grows again in a way that feels almost generous, until the current turns. It’s subtle, but not subtle enough to miss; the timing of a deal, the flick of a card, the way the table tightens just slightly around her as the game tilts out from under her feet and she loses it all. Had Jack been there he'd have seen the way an ace slid from the man's sleeve, but the Ark hadn't, too focused on shooting a warning look at one of the other players who was all but salivating at the shape of her tits.
The man across from her leans back, grin widening with a satisfaction that has very little to do with the coins now resting on his side of the table, his gaze dragging slowly over her in a way that suggests he’s been waiting for this moment more than any hand of cards. [say]"I’ll take a drink with you, since y'seem to be out of coin,"[/say] he says, easy and pleased, already reaching across the table to catch her hand as if the outcome had always been inevitable.
As his fingers close around her wrist, his eyes drop to the ring on her hand, the one she'd selected from those Jack wore. It happens all at once—the shift in his expression, the way his grip tightens rather than loosens, the easy charm draining out of his face like something pulled too quickly from the tide—and the others around the table unconciously lean back slightly. [say]"Just where the fuck’d you get that?"[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
Jack seems to orbit the tavern for a long while before drawing close enough to fully plug himself into what's going on. He'd caught the first blush of interest from The Ark in the game - and even moreso from the men welcoming her to their table - before fading back into his own business. As he'd suspected back at the bench with the oyster shucker, word travels especially fast today, and news of his return has spread like ripples from a stone in deep water.
Indeed, even before the unfortunate circumstances that lead to The Ark losing her pile of winnings, a few passers-by outside the tavern can be heard muttering to themselves in low voices or making subtle gestures to urchins pretending to beg for coin nearby. Jack doesn't often grind the rumour mill on purpose, let alone bask in the fruits of its labours, but sue him - it ain't every day one of Torchline's prodigal sons returns home.
He spends a little time in conversation with a man who had once produced some very fine work in counterfeit documentation who has now opened a second-hand bookshop, of all things, only realising how long has passed by the way moths begin to flutter around the guttering lamps. Agreeing to tempt him with a few pieces of work from King's End, Jack steps away and returns to the tavern just in time for one of the gamblers to seize The Ark by the hand.
Feeling the spasm in their thoughts as a collective intake of breath, the Captain pauses from his spot just off the boardwalk, ironically in sight of The Ark and conveniently hidden away for anyone not specifically looking for him. He raises his eyebrows towards her as if to ask if she'd like him to add his two cents, or if she'd like to take this particular bull by the horns herself.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
The man’s grip tightens around her wrist, but the Ark doesn’t recoil from it; instead, the sharp spike of contact sends something bright and electric through her, her pulse kicking hard beneath her skin as the moment turns. It isn’t fear that rises in her, nor even irritation at being touched by someone other than Jack, but something far more dangerous; a flicker of exhilaration that roughens the quiet waters of her mind into something darker, more restless, as though the tide has suddenly found teeth.
Across the shifting bodies and lanternlight, she catches the unmistakable blue of Jack’s gaze, the way it finds her without effort, and the knowledge of him there—watching, waiting—settles into her like a steadying current beneath the swell. It’s enough, more than enough, and her chin lifts almost imperceptibly as she turns her attention fully back to the man before her, her smile unfurling slow and siren-sweet, all soft lips and deep water eyes that promise far more than they give.
She rises smoothly from the table, removing the leverage he had on her without breaking the line of tension between them, her posture easy even as his fingers remain wrapped around her wrist. [say]"This?"[/say] she says lightly, glancing down at the ring before looking back up at him, her voice as smooth as the tide before a storm. [say]"Came from Captain Jack Barclay."[/say] The name lands between them with deliberate weight, and the Ark’s smile sharpens, turning just a touch feral as she watches it sink in. [say]"And since you seem to be a betting man,"[/say] she continues, tilting her head slightly, [say]"right now you should be thinking to yourself that either I took this ring from Jack Barclay..."[/say] Her free hand lifts, fingers brushing against his as she begins to try and peel them from her wrist. [say]"...or he gave it to me."[/say]
She leans in just enough to make the space between them feel intentional, her voice dropping a fraction. [say]"Now,"[/say] she murmurs, lips curving, [say]"which do you think it is? And more importantly,"[/say] she adds, the edge of her smile flashing, [say]"are you going to call, or fold on this hand?"[/say] The hand, of course, being the one wrapped around her wrist.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
Settling in to lean against the tavern's rough stone wall, Jack's smile is something quick and half doused in shadow, the Captain silently taking her lead and instead occupying himself with another cigarette. The posse at the table are even less likely to notice him now, especially as The Ark rises to her feet, her voice soft and commanding as any ship captain's, and as he rubs his fingers together to produce enough flame enough to light his smoke, one of the thugs starts to laugh.
It's a brash sound, the kind of confidence bolstered by winning hands and a lot of liquor, and he slouches back in his seat to gaze up at her - not at her face, of course, but at her ample chest. "Don't matter how you got it, tits," he crows at her, "Jack Barclay's in King's End. Ain't like he can do much from there, is it?" His second bray of laughter is joined by a few of the others, though some seem a little more uncertain; mainly those who have been at the edge of the tables and able to take note of those coming and going along the path.
The one with his hand fastened around her wrist isn't one of them, unfortunately. Bolstered by his big-mouthed friend, he leans in as well, enough that his sour breath will wash across her face. His fingers tighten around her wrist.
Before he can reply - or more accurately, before he can yank her forward and down onto his lap - the area around the table suddenly crackles with a potent ring of static, leaving the stink of ozone in its wake. Not enough to announce Jack's presence, but maybe enough to make them believe it's come from The Ark.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
The Ark’s gaze flicks once across the table at the braying laughter, the sound grating and hollow in a way that barely deserves the breath it’s made from, before her attention settles fully on the man still clutching her wrist. Up close, with his breath sour against her skin and his grip tightening as though that alone might secure her, she has to consciously still the instinct to pull away, to recoil from the closeness of something so small and grasping and pathetic.
Instead, she leans into it.
Her eyes lift to meet his, blue and deep and impossibly steady, holding him there with a calm that feels far more dangerous than any flinch might have been. [say]"If you're so sure you're right,"[/say] she says, her voice low and even, [say]"go all in. By all means."[/say] The words settle between them like a promise. [say]"Let’s see what you’ve got."[/say]
Her free hand rises as she speaks, fingers sliding smoothly against the band on her other hand until the ring comes loose, held lightly between her fingertips as though it weighs nothing at all. The air shifts almost immediately, subtle at first—the faint prickle along skin, the quiet tightening of something unseen—as the scent of ozone deepens around them. Though she and Jack haven’t practiced her elemental abilities much, the smell of lightning and the stink of the man’s breath on her face combined with the thick warmth of his fingers on her wrist, have a storm churning up from within her.
A cold wind sweeps across the table in a sudden, contained gust, tugging at clothes and scattering loose hair as it lifts the edges of the game into motion, cards skittering and flipping like startled birds caught in a storm. The Ark stands at the centre of it, unmoved, her red hair streaming back in waves as if pulled by an unseen tide, her posture loose and unhurried even as the air around her crackles. Where the man’s hand grips her wrist, water begins to gather—not dripping—but spilling impossibly against his skin as though he's trying to hold onto the sea itself. It spills between his fingers in a cold rush, slick and unrelenting, while faint arcs of electricity snap and flicker through the air around her, drawn toward the ring she holds aloft.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
The combination of her magic is as familiar as everything else Jack has known her to be, the Captain unsurprised but thoroughly impressed to watch the combination of wind and water and electricity ignite in a living storm around her. He might have prompted the spark of static, but he releases control of the element almost immediately as he feels The Ark's will bend around it. Cards scatter, chairs scrape back, and the stretch of cobbles to either side of the tavern has cleared of people almost organically. A few of the gamblers are on their feet now too, and the one whose lips had been loosest now looks like he'll be the first to get the fuck out of dodge.
"You're a crazy fuckin' bitch," the thug whose hand has fastened around her wrist snaps, though for all of his rage and bluster, he does release her as if she might combust at any second. (Or, more likely, as if a stray crackle of electricity might dance across her sea-slick skin and jump at him). "Ring's prob'ly a knock-off anyways. Either that or you pulled it off a corpse."
The storm around The Ark is still raging, but danger never seems to stop stupid, and a few of the men make an immediate break for it after that, intending to scatter into alleyways and take whatever winnings they've earned with them.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
The moment his grip breaks, the Ark doesn’t move away; instead, the storm tightens. Water surges where his hand had been, not falling away but gathering, rising with intent as though the sea itself has chosen a shape, and in the same breath it closes around his throat, not a crushing force, but something far more precise. It spreads quickly, saturating him, and the next flicker of electricity that dances through the air doesn’t snap outward but settles across him in a fine, glimmering sheen. It isn’t violent in the way one might expect, and is the sort of thing that could even be pleasurable if done the right way. There's no bolt, no flash, just a quiet, insistent current threading through water and muscle alike until his body betrays him, tension turning against itself as his limbs jerk and seize under the charge, each movement sharp and involuntary, pain drawn out in tight, stuttering pulses.
The Ark watches it happen without flinching. [say]"Tsk,"[/say] she clicks softly under her breath in response to him calling her a bitch, the sound almost disappointed as the chaos around them begins to thin, the other men already breaking apart and scattering into whatever shadows they can find. [say]"Don’t be such a sore loser. My hand was just better than yours."[/say] He'd had an ace up his sleeve, but she'd had Jack up hers.
The storm begins to loosen as she speaks, not vanishing but settling, its edge dulling as easily as it had sharpened, and she lifts her chin slightly as though the entire exchange has barely warranted her attention. A flick of her shoulder sends a spill of red hair sliding back into place, the motion casual, unhurried. [say]"I’ve got somewhere else to be,"[/say] she adds, voice smoothing back into something almost conversational, [say]"or I’d offer you a rematch."[/say] Her smile curves then, jackal-bright and edged with something that promises this isn’t the last time their paths might cross. [say]"Maybe another time."[/say]
She turns from him without waiting to see if he recovers, the last threads of wind and water peeling away from her as she steps back into the flow of the harbour, slipping easily between bodies and lanternlight. The ring slides back onto her finger as she walks, the metal catching briefly in the glow of the evening before her hand drops back to her side, her gaze lifting just slightly, unfocused to anyone watching, but angled, unmistakably, in Jack's direction before moving through the crowd in the direction of the meetup with the Blackfox.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
It's a work of art to anyone watching, though the man being subjected to quiet electrocution likely doesn't agree. And as The Ark finally steps away from him it's painfully apparent to all those in the immediate vicinity that his bladder has stopped cooperating at some point through the steady current of electricity, something that does indeed add insult to injury. "You'd best watch your back, whore," he barks to her departing silhouette, though there's no saving the shreds of his ruined pride.
Jack waits until she's stepped past him and then some before opting to follow, and by the time he catches up with her she'll have made it fairly deep into Kaiholo. He draws up beside her as if they've been walking together the entire time, Jack silently offering out a small pouch of something that jingles with the weight of coins. [say]"Your winnin's,"[/say] he says quietly. [say]"You forgot 'em at the table."[/say] And if there's blood visible on his knuckles when she takes the pouch, that was probably already there earlier.
[say]"How'd you find your first taste of Torchline all on your lonesome?"[/say] he continues. [say]"Was it everythin' you dreamed it would be?"[/say] Gambling and cheating and threatening, oh my!
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
Jack’s presence at her side doesn’t change her stride, but it does change something quieter and deeper; the last restless chop of her thoughts smoothing out into something more fluid, more certain. The smile already on her lips doesn’t sharpen or soften, but the light in her eyes shifts when she glances at him, bright and reflective like sunlight skimming across open water. Her gaze drops briefly to the pouch he offers, catching the faint smear of blood across his knuckles as she reaches for it, her fingers brushing his as she takes the weight. The coins jingle softly when she gives it a small, testing bounce in her palm, her grin turning wolfish at the sound despite how little the concept of money truly anchors in her mind. [say]"Mm,"[/say] she hums, more pleased by the gesture than the contents.
At his question, though, she rolls her eyes, the motion exaggerated just enough to make her irritation clear as they continue through the thickening crowd of Kaiholo. [say]"Are they really all so..."[/say] she starts, the word chauvinistic catching somewhere just out of reach before she exhales sharply through her nose and settles for something simpler, her tone flattening with disdain, [say]"stupid?"[/say]
The memory of it still sits sourly against her tongue; not fear, not even true anger, but a lingering irritation that pricks at her like grit beneath skin. The men hadn't been clever, and they hadn't even been particularly dangerous. They'd just been oafs; boring and basic. The Ark tilts her head slightly toward Jack, her gaze sliding over his face with a glint that suggests she’s already decided something about it. [say]"I do think someone should teach their ringleader to watch his mouth,"[/say] she adds, almost idly, though there’s an edge beneath it that hasn’t quite dulled. As it turns out, being called things like whore, however commonplace though it might be in Torchline and for women in general when dealing with men of this particular calibre, will have the Ark envisioning shoving thin picks of ice beneath his fingernails, his eyelids, and into the head of his cock.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
[say]"Mm, not all. Jus' most,"[/say] Jack says with an almost carefree shrug of his shoulder. [say]"Why, you realisin' you've been spoiled by the likes of Murphy on deck?"[/say] Grinning now, the Captain offers her the cigarette left smoking between his lips until now. [say]"We're at the dock front,"[/say] he explains, gesturing back to where they'd been walking before. [say]"You ain't gonna find much more'n labourers an' dock workers out there. Few sharp tacks, but most ain't gonna know what to do with the likes of you."[/say]
Other than to cheat at a game of cards and then try to bully their way into her pants, anyway.
As for the matter of the ringleader and his mouth, Jack does little more than stare out at the ink dark glitter of water shrinking away as he leads them to the signpost that will take them deep into Haulani. [say]"Who says they already didn't?"[/say] he says, his tone a particular sort of casual that belies the danger in it. [say]"Given that I made him pick up every one of the coins in your pouch with his teeth."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
The Ark huffs softly under her breath, though the edge of her irritation has dulled into something more wry as she reaches to pluck the cigarette from his lips, drawing it in with a quiet hum as she considers his words. [say]"Some of your crew are stupid,"[/say] she concedes, her mouth quirking with something almost self-deprecating as the smoke curls from her lips, [say]"but they aren’t idiots like that."[/say] If they had been, they never would have lasted under him.
Jack's casual admission and the ease with which he lays violence in her name at her feet, lands clean and sharp. She reaches for him, the cigarette pulled hastily from her mouth and held forgotten between her fingers as her other hand catches his coat and drags him in just enough to meet her. The kiss is rough and quick, more claim than caress, though there's nothing tentative in the way she presses her lips against his.
Who says they already didn't? Gods, she loves him for that. It isn't just the violence or humiliation so skillfully enacted, but the certainty beneath it, the way he has always done this, always handled things for her without needing an audience, without needing to make a show of it, the quiet, ruthless assurance that what is his is not to be mishandled, not to be spoken down to, not to be touched without consequence. [say]"Thank you,"[/say] she says quietly, the words simple and entirely sincere as she pulls back, breath barely changed, the cigarette still smouldering between her fingers as her eyes linger on him, darkened for a fleeting second into something deeper, something edged and almost sharklike beneath the surface, before reaching out to touch the signpost.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-17-2026
[say]"They sure as shit ain't,"[/say] Jack agrees without changing his tone, though he does scoff under his breath a little. He's pretty sure from the tangle of pain and rage and humiliation in the ringleader's thoughts that he might have once worked on his ship, actually, and the fact that he doesn't any more is all the more evidence as to the quality he expects from his crew.
He's already half turning towards her as she reaches for him, his magic lending him the sort of heads-up that makes the kiss she delivers to his lips seamless, almost cinematic in its delivery. They don't miss a beat or a step, and when The Ark draws back once more Jack's arm hooks comfortably around her shoulders. It's already obvious that they've been walking together, but now as they approach the signpost, it takes on an entirely new meaning.
[say]"Let me know if you ever want him face down in the Miana Pool,"[/say] he says, a smirk kicking up one side of his mouth. Then he's reaching out to brush his fingers across the sign for Haulani, and they step away into the heart of Torchline.
Their meeting with the Blackfox goes well. Jack is just saying as much as they return to Kaiholo, because such meetings - especially at the Grey Road headquarters - often don't look as though they go any which way at all. Motives stay disguised, expressions and opinions guarded, blades covered by silk and decorum. [say]"You charmed the shit out of her,"[/say] the Captain continues as they take their first steps back into the port, the space much sleepier than when they had left it given the later hour - quite unlike Haulani had been.
[say]"Which turned out to be a savin' grace, since I reckon she'd been waitin' to give me a tongue lashin' for my leavin' Torchline,"[/say] he continues. [say]"We're livin' to fight another day though, an' that's a win in my book."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-17-2026
The Ark exhales softly, a breath that carries just enough of the taste of Jack's lips to leave a faint warmth lingering beneath her skin, a trace of colour still high in her cheeks as she glances back over her shoulder at him. The grin she flashes is crooked and bright, edged with something hungry that hasn’t quite settled yet. [say]"Sure,"[/say] she says easily, her lips twitching before the thought sharpens into something more calculating. [say]"You can be the bait."[/say] Her eyes flick over him, quick and assessing, already picturing it; the way the man would strut after Jack, proud and smug for having secured an audience with the Captain only to find the Ark waiting for him. [say]"I’ll be the one waiting at the end."[/say]
The Ark runs her fingers back through the roots of her hair, lifting it away from her neck before letting it fall again with a relieved little huff of laughter, the tension of the meeting bleeding out of her in small, unguarded motions. [say]"Yeah?"[/say] she murmurs, glancing sidelong at Jack as they walk, her tone curious despite the confidence she carries. There had been little to read in that room, nothing offered freely, and even Jack had kept his hand close to his chest in a way that left her navigating the exchange more by instinct than certainty.
His explanation draws a wolfish grin from her, quick and sharp. [say]"I can imagine the sort of tongue lashing she’d have had for you had you gone alone,"[/say] she says, the suggestion laced through her voice bright and easy, playful rather than pointed or jealous.
Stretching her arms up above her head as they walk, the motion unrestrained, easy in a way that feels newly earned, her body arches slightly as the stars begin to scatter across the sky overhead. [say]"Shall we get a drink to celebrate? I'm not tired yet."[/say]