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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 - 03-18-2026
[say]"Oh yeah,"[/say] Jack says easily, his footsteps slowing as they thread further into Kaiholo. There's no need any longer to look as if they're on their way somewhere in any sort of hurry, especially not now that they've left Haulani where the Blackfox and her network of ears are tightest. [say]"Ain't every day you get to meet the lady responsible for most of the dirty deeds that got ferried into Torchline,"[/say] he reminds her, his grin casually crooked. [say]"Let alone hear what she's got to say about things."[/say]
It might have been a brief check in - briefer, indeed, than if he'd gotten that personal tongue lashing, yes - but it had been loaded with expectation, with thoughts for the future, with now that you're backs and what do you knows. Regardless of when they decide to leave the islands, Jack knows they've got plenty to do and more than that to report if they're to stay in the thick of Caido's most lucrative guild.
[say]"You read my mind,"[/say] he drawls - a drink after a clandestine meeting in the shadow of the port is just the sort of thing Jack's old habits are after, and though The Hanged Man might be gone - and it'd be off limits even if it wasn't - there are plenty of other places they can go. [say]"What kinda drink are you thirstin' after?"[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-18-2026
The Ark doesn’t answer right away, though the quiet satisfaction of the meeting lingers beneath her thoughts. It isn’t smugness—there’s too much she doesn’t yet know, too much she felt rather than understood—but there’s a definite sense of having stepped into something larger and not been swallowed by it. Her gaze drifts briefly toward Jack, the faint lift of her brow carrying a trace of that thought. [say]"You think she's immortal too?"[/say] She asks lightly, wondering if the Blackfox, like Jack, had decided already that one lifetime wasn't enough to properly set up their various ventures.
His comment draws a soft laugh from her, and she tips her head slightly as she considers the question, her attention shifting outward to the stretch of Kaiholo ahead. Lanternlight flickers across weathered wood and stone, the quieter hum of the port at night settling into something more selective, more intentional. [say]"I want to drink in the sort of place where the men aren’t stupid,"[/say] she says after a moment, glancing back at him with a small lift of her brows. She didn't want the loud, fumbling kind that mistake bluster for power, not the sort who grab and jeer and think themselves dangerous for it, but the ones who know better, who move with purpose, who might actually be worth Jack's attention for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-18-2026
[say]"I dunno,"[/say] Jack says honestly. [say]"Never came up an' she's never thought 'bout it. Wouldn't surprise me if she's got some trick up her silks ready, though."[/say] For precisely the sort of reasons The Ark has already considered, though even if the Blackfox ever retired, the Captain has the impression that whoever took her place would keep the moniker. There's something about a reputation that makes it more important, at times, than the reality. He should know.
As she mentions what she wants - or more precisely what she doesn't want - Jack scoffs out a laugh and inclines his head in a roguish half-bow. [say]"Let me see what I can do,"[/say] he says, beckoning for her to follow as he threads deeper into Kaiholo where, as all Torchline natives know, the best drinking holes are often the most difficult to get to.
They end up at a place tucked along the side of a building - it's the cellar of a dressmaker's business, in truth - Jack leading them down the stone steps to a plain door with no handle. He raps upon it in a curious rhythm, and when it cracks open the weathered face is about to snap that the password he's used is seasons out of date, before he recognises who stands upon the threshold.
After that there's much affectionate swearing, barked laughter and the sort of clap on the shoulder that rattles Jack's bones, but he accepts it with good-natured patience and gestures for The Ark to step in ahead of him. [say]"Welcome to the Tide and Tonic,"[/say] he says, [say]"where every crooked captain worth his salt likes to get a drink in peace. This is Gallagher. He watches the door, if you couldn't tell."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-18-2026
The Ark listens as Jack speaks of the Blackfox, committing the shape of it to memory. Not the words themselves so much as the weight behind them, the understanding that reputation can be sharpened into something just as dangerous as any blade. It settles quietly into her, the thought of becoming that sort of presence—someone known for what she might do, for what she might be hiding—rather than simply what she is. It's one thing to have the sea and its Captain at her beck and call, it's another entirely to leave those around her guessing about what else she might have in her arsenal.
Her smirk is easy when she glances at him, following without question as he leads her deeper into Kaiholo, her confidence in him never once wavering despite the winding path and the increasingly unremarkable surroundings. By the time they stand before the plain, handle-less door, she doesn’t so much as hesitate, her attention lingering instead on the rhythm of his knock and the subtle shift of something unseen as they wait, but what she doesn't expect, is the greeting.
The sudden bark of laughter, the rough affection, the way Jack is pulled into it and meets it without resistance, it catches her off guard in a way she doesn’t outwardly show, though the effect ripples through her all the same. For so long now his smiles have been measured things, slow to form and quicker to fade, but here they come easier, carried on the recognition of a place that still knows him, still claims him, and the waters of her mind brighten at the sight of it, sparkling wide and warm.
She turns her attention to Gallagher as she passes, her smile curling low and smooth. [say]"And what a good job he’s doing of it,"[/say] she purrs, the approval easy as she slips inside.
The shift in light is immediate, dim and golden and thick with the murmur of voices layered just low enough to feel private, and her eyes adjust quickly, darkening as they pick out the shapes within. Figures move in shadowed clusters, some turning just enough to mark their arrival before looking away again, others watching more openly with the quiet calculation of those who know better than to stare too long. She takes it all in as she moves, choosing a table nearer the centre rather than the booths tucked along the edges, the better to sit close to Jack without needing to lean across space or lower her voice.
Later, she'll ask him what it feels like for him in a place like this, but knowing he'll not be able to answer her right now, instad she leans in close enough that her voice doesn't need to carry, her gaze drifting briefly across the room before returning to him, her smile sharpening into something wolfish. [say]"Do you think the majority of them are worried you're back? Or relieved?"[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-18-2026
[say]"Don't fluff his ego, or he'll never let you go,"[/say] Jack quips the moment The Ark delivers her compliment, prompting another brutish clap against his shoulder from old man Gallagher; it's the sort of gesture that's practically a shove, that has the Captain smirking over his shoulder even after he concedes and heads deeper into the Tide and Tonic. [say]"Man used to be one of Torchline's best knife fighters, 'fore his bones got old,"[/say] he adds under his breath to The Ark, walking side by side with her until they reach the table she deems desireable.
The murmur of voices is a soft melody that knits seamlessly with his telepathy, Jack seeming to straighten and relax all at the same time as he draws her chair out for her. The world here feels more condensed, more interesting, and though barfights aren't unheard of within the Tide and Tonic, he had promised to take her somewhere the men aren't stupid, and they'e less likely to break out unprovoked.
[say]"Bit of both if I had to guess,"[/say] he admits, sinking down into the seat beside her. [say]"I worked well with a few of these captains. We had agreements I had to break when I left, so I daresay they ain't sad to see me back. Others, though, not so much. You get a few pirates in here from time to time. Not many, but a few."[/say] And suffice to say Jack has little to no time for them. [say]"Anyway, pick your poison. I can't vouch for the liquor since I don't provide it no more, but I imagine it'll still be decent."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-18-2026
The Ark’s gaze flicks briefly back toward the door at Jack’s aside, a note of genuine interest sharpening her expression as she considers the man they’ve just left behind. [say]"Oh yeah? Think he could teach me a thing or two?"[/say]
The thought lingers only a moment before she lets it settle away, her attention returning to Jack as he pulls out her chair. She slips into it with an easy grace, crossing one long leg over the other as she leans slightly toward him. At his if I had to guess, her lips curve into a crooked, knowing smile, wine-dark and wry, the expression carrying just enough amusement to call him on his feigned ignorance without saying a word.
She listens as he explains, nodding faintly, though her nose wrinkles slightly at the mention of pirates, the distaste immediate and unhidden. There’s something careless in the way they treat their ships—like wagers to be won and discarded not unlike racehorses—that sits poorly with her, a contrast too sharp against the way Jack had always handled her, for the Ark to be anything but disapproving towards them.
Her attention shifts as someone approaches to take their order, and she doesn’t so much as glance toward a menu before speaking. [say]"I’ll have whatever’s best,"[/say] she says smoothly, before her eyes lift, catching the server’s, and for a brief moment something in them deepens; blue darkening, brightening, pulling just slightly. The Ark doesn't need to be a telepath to know that what he was planning was just bringing her a glass of something expensive. [say]"I mean something that isn’t listed on your menu,"[/say] she purrs, her voice carrying a curious lilt to it as she holds his gaze for a moment before letting it drift across the room. When it returns to Jack, there's something thoughtful and faintly amused in her expression.
[say]"They’ve all got an eye on you,"[/say] she notes, [say]"even when they’re pretending they don’t."[/say] A faint curve touches her wine-dark lips. [say]"They’re harder to read than that lot back at the docks, though, I’ll give them that."[/say] Her fingers tap lightly once against the table, as if testing something that isn’t there. If she could feel them the way she was used to—through the weight of a step, the drag of a hand along her rail, the idle rhythm of fingers against her hull—she’d have a much idea about what they were thinking. But here, across the haze of smoke and low light, they blur at the edges, their intentions slipping just out of reach in a way she doesn’t much care for.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-18-2026
[say]"Or three or four,"[/say] Jack says readily enough, eyes skimming the menu as they sit, in search of something in particular. For all of the Captain's ego and arrogance, he's the first to recognise a skill in someone else, especially a skill that might be transferable with a few sweet words and the right attitude. [say]"You won't get him away from that door 'til last call, but I reckon he's already more'n willin' to give you the time of day."[/say]
With a smirk Jack sits back, watching the exchange between The Ark and the server with unashamed interest, and when they finally collect their senses enough to glance in his direction he orders a single malt, top shelf, caring little for the cost. It's the last of a cask he'd rolled ashore nearly a year ago now, and he'd never gotten the chance to taste it himself. He plans to change all that tonight.
The server retreats then, giving them free rein to people watch with as much subtlety as they're being watched in turn. [say]"Ah, you get used to it,"[/say] Jack mutters of the feel of their eyes on him. [say]"Ain't any trouble stirrin', not just yet in any case. You can relax,"[/say] he assures her, shrugging out of his coat to sling it over the back of his seat. [say]"I'll let you know if anythin' changes."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-18-2026
The Ark lets out a soft chuckle at that, the sound slipping low and amused from her lips as she reins in the immediate, flickering urge to test that theory before last call just to see if she could. Instead, she settles for a grin, sharp and easy. [say]"Maybe on his day off, then."[/say]
She lifts a hand to her hair, fingers sliding through it in a slow, absent motion that suggests ease, though her eyes—when they flick back to Jack—give nothing away at all. The room might be watching, but she doesn’t look like she minds it. [say]"It’s not trouble I’m worried about,"[/say] she says in a low voice, one shoulder lifting in a small, casual shrug. [say]"It’s the not knowing. If I knew what they were thinking, I could—"[/say] Abruptly, she stops herself, a quiet laugh slipping out instead as she shakes her head faintly. There’s no need to finish that thought, not with him.
Her attention drops to the table, and she presses a fingertip lightly against the wood, tracing a slow, idle circle. Water gathers there, beading beneath her touch before slipping free in small, deliberate droplets that follow the path she draws. The Ark glances back up at Jack then, head tilting slightly, curiosity sharpening the line of her mouth. [say]"If I turned into a storm in here...or if I tried to lure one of them away.."[/say] she muses, her voice low and thoughtful rather than threatening, [say]"..what would they do?"[/say] She knew what the morons on the docks would do, and while she knew that likely she wouldn't be met with the same crass and ham-handed response in here, what she didn't know was what might replace it.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-18-2026
[say]"Bring a flask of white rum with you an' he'll be your friend for life,"[/say] Jack advises, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to the rest of the Tide and Tonic as it settles around him like an old and familiar tune. He grins without needing to glance back at her as she cuts herself off, his shrug easy and knowing all in one; the silence that follows her thought is the story of his life, after all.
He senses the water magic thrum through her fingertips to chase the table's surface, the Captain watching with an interest that appears mild and amused to anyone glancing towards them, and his lips part to answer before he promptly stops himself. A second later, their server arrives with Jack's single malt and, to his quiet surprise, a measure of waterfall gin for The Ark.
Nodding his thanks and waiting until the server is back out of earshot, he finally turns properly towards her. [say]"If you turned into a storm here, there'd be enough blades drawn, claws sharpened or magic raised to collapse the cellar on top of us,"[/say] he says with a smirk. [say]"Fisticuffs ain't unheard of, but if you're pullin' out magic you're askin' for a real fight."[/say]
As for luring one of them away, Jack laughs under his breath and raises his glass. [say]"Depends on who you went after,"[/say] he says; smart men are unpredictable in a way that the goons out at the docks will never be. [say]"Some might refuse you outright. Others might go with you, assumin' you meant to stick a knife between their ribs. A few might even try'n lure you right back."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-18-2026
The Ark’s thanks is nothing more than the slight dip of her chin as the glass is set before her, though her fingers claim it immediately. Frost blooms beneath her touch without thought—a mannerism she'd picked up from Jack—creeping across the glass in pale veins as she turns it idly, watching the liquid shift and catch the low light like something alive.
Her mouth curves faintly as Jack explains that a storm would be met with violence. The dockside idiots had scattered like hels at a gunshot, and there's something pleasing and a bit exciting about knowing that these ones wouldn't. That these ones would bite back. At his next words, though, something sharper slips through her, a flicker of interest that pricks like salt in an open cut. Refuse her? The thought doesn’t bruise her pride so much as it itches, the urge to test it rising quick and bright before she presses it down, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place. [say]"You keep saying things like that, Jack..."[/say] She warns lightly under her breath. While she'd learned patience alongside the Captain, there was only so much being told what she couldn't do in an evening that she could take.
The idea of anyone trying to turn her wiles back on her earns a low sound from her throat, half amusement, half something more curious, her tongue pressing briefly to the inside of her cheek as if tasting the shape of it. She leans in then, not fully, just enough to shift the air between them, her shoulder brushing his as her gaze lifts, blue and deep and pulling. [say]"Tell me something,"[/say] she murmurs, voice dropping just enough to belong to him. [say]"Are any of them brave, or stupid enough, to try it, just to get to you?"[/say] And maybe a better question, did Jack think any of them capable enough to try and charm the sea, to get to its sailor?
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-18-2026
Sipping at his drink at last, Jack doesn't try to hide his approval of good liquor - good Torchline liquor - letting it burn across his tongue and down his throat for a long few moments before setting the glass down and lending The Ark his full attention once more. [say]"Mm, I know. I'm strikin' a match next to a fuse,"[/say] he agrees through a quiet laugh. [say]"I ain't sayin' they'd refuse you outright mind, love - they got eyes in their heads. They just ain't as dazzled as your average idiot."[/say]
They'll want to know what she's about, who she's with and, more importantly when it comes to her connections with Jack, why she's at their table. There's no such thing as just for a good time when it comes to sudden meetings among crooks and captains, especially not in a place like this.
Leaning in as well as her voice lowers to something secretive, the eyes on them will be able to catch the Captain's sneer of amusement, the way he reaches across to casually clink his glass against hers. [say]"Not here there ain't,"[/say] he tells her with a touch of regret. [say]"Not on our first night back on the islands, anyway. Too many seasons between what was an' what is. Besides, you wanted a place where the men weren't stupid,"[/say] he reminds her. There's nothing wrong with a few drinks and the knowledge that no one is fool enough to cause trouble.
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-18-2026
Jack’s answer doesn’t smother the spark in her. If anything, it sharpens it. What had been a flicker of idle curiosity settles into something more deliberate, more controlled, the edge of it honed rather than dulled as she lets his words sink in. If she’s to move among them, it won’t be as something that dazzles and passes; it’ll be as something they can’t quite place, something with more tucked beneath the surface than they can comfortably read. Like the Blackfox.
His glass taps against hers, and the Ark’s smirk deepens slightly at the contact as she lifts the drink to her lips, letting it rest there for a moment before tipping it back. The gin hits cold first, sharp and clean across her tongue, the botanical edge unfolding exactly as expected, but the next breath draws in something stranger, the sensation of water moving the wrong way, like a current reversing itself mid-tide, and it pulls a quiet, surprised inhale from her as the second flavour blooms, deeper, more layered than the first that nearly has her knocking back the rest of what's in the tumbler.
She lowers the glass slowly, the faint curl of her mouth returning as she glances back to Jack, the earlier restlessness now tempered into something more intentional. [say]"Yes,"[/say] she agrees easily, though the word carries a trace of amusement as she leans back into her chair, posture loosening without losing any of its presence. Her chin lifts slightly, her gaze settling on him in full, blue darkening into something deeper, more assessing. [say]"I did."[/say]
For a moment she's silent, her attention fixed on him as though the rest of the room has briefly fallen away. [say]"I just wondered if seeing you again after all this time might be enough to make even clever men forget what’s good for them,"[/say] she says softly, her eyes lingering on him, before her smile deepens, something darker threading through it. [say]"Reckless enough to reach anyway."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - Jack - 03-18-2026
[say]"Here, I'll make you a start,"[/say] Jack offers, his voice quiet and his gaze on her, but his hand rests flat on the table after setting his drink town so he can subtly gesture towards different parts of the Tide and Tonic. [say]"Their names won't matter to you so much as the names of their ships. So to our right we've got the captain of The Seahawk. We worked with 'em when we were here in Torchline - they greased palms an' gave us an alibi when we needed it. In return we'd give 'em a cut of what we brought home."[/say]
In short, unproblematic, almost neutral now that their business has concluded, but with potential to pick it back up if needed.
[say]"Then over your left shoulder you got the captain of The Banshee. That's old, bad blood. She's a clipper - technically we should work hand in glove given how she could help move our goods, but... well. That's Murph's old captain. Hates us outta principle."[/say] Much to Jack's amusement, but at least he keeps out of their way.
[say]"On our left we've a few crew from The Mariette. She's a pleasure barge, an offshoot of the Halenani some say. We used to supply 'em with Snapdragon an' liquor when they asked."[/say] More a client than a partnership, they're nevertheless more dangerous than they might appear.
As to whether they're reckless or stupid enough to try anything at first glance of him in this cellar bar, the Captain only grins and shrugs, lifting his glass back to his lips. [say]"If Murph was with us I reckon we'd have trouble from The Banshee,"[/say] he concedes. [say]"But for tonight we might get lucky. Which suits me fine, by the by."[/say]
RE: i'm the storm your mama warned you about - The Ark - 03-19-2026
As Jack begins to speak, The Ark's attention settles in fully, the surface brightness of her gaze going glassy and sea-deep, as if she’s listening not just with her ears but with something that runs along a keel, along tensioned rope, along the subtle pull of currents beneath a hull. His hand gestures, and her eyes follow without turning her head, mapping what he says onto the room with quiet precision.
The Seahawk earns a faint, thoughtful nod, the name brushing past her like a tide she doesn’t quite remember riding. But the moment he mentions the Banshee, something in her stills. Not outwardly—not enough for anyone else to mark—but there’s a tightening beneath the surface, a shift in pressure that turns the water of her thoughts colder and heavier. Her shoulders draw just slightly, her mouth thinning as she glances at Jack, the line of her lips dark and deliberate. [say]"I remember the clipper,"[/say] she says, her voice smooth but edged, like glass worn thin by salt. [say]"She's the only ship Murphy ever pulled me off of."[/say]
Despite her size, the Ark was faster than she had any right to be, stronger than many, her hull built to endure what others couldn’t, and Murphy—steady, stubborn Murphy—had never once asked her to match the Banshee stride for stride. He’d turned her instead, chosen retreat where she might’ve pushed, and she'd always wondered at that, at least insofar as she'd been able to. The clipper was faster, but that didn't mean the Ark couldn't have pushed her to waste resources in trying to run away. That the Banshee's hull had never been mysteriously peppered with holes, that her ribs hadn't been splintered, that there'd been no quiet sabotage in the dark told the Ark that the feud wasn't one that Jack was inclined to feed or sharpen. Still, something protective coils low and tidal in her chest, a dark swell that doesn’t quite break.
The Mariette softens her again, just slightly, and she nods. [say]"I almost wish he was,"[/say] she murmurs under her breath of Muphy being with them, the thought slipping free before she bothers to dress it up, and when her eyes flick back to Jack there’s no apology in them, only a small, shameless lift of her shoulder. Murphy had given much to her over the years and she wouldn’t mind returning the favour. Though... perhaps there’s something to be said for a quiet return, for arriving without blood in the water. At least on their first proper night out.
Leaning back into her chair, she tips her head, the movement languid, the line of her throat catching the low light as her attention drifts—not away from him, never fully away—but outward, brushing over the room again with new context stitched through it. [say]"Do you think they’ll wonder about me? About how I came to be?"[/say] Her gaze slides back to him, darkened blue and intent. [say]"And to try and do the same with their own ships?"[/say]