![]() |
|
[SE] corona australis - Printable Version +- Court of the Fallen (https://cotf-rpg.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=26) +--- Forum: Important (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27) +---- Forum: Archives (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=38) +---- Thread: [SE] corona australis (/showthread.php?tid=11949) |
corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 It isn't unusual for The Ark to be a hive of activity long after the sun has set, particularly when she's just come into port. Such is the case tonight, though the hawk-eyed on Torchline's docks might see that a lot more crates are being loaded on to the galleon than being taken off. Her captain is also nowhere to be found. Jack, in fact, is a few hundred yards down the beach, close enough to be able to see the ship with her ruddy sails aglow in the torchlight, but far enough away from the bustle of people to keep his magic from pinging a thousand times a minute. [say]"I'm leavin' the islands,"[/say] he announces to Vesper as they fall to a halt. He kicks a bit of sand with the toe of his boot, using his earth magic to start manipulating it into towers and swirls and turrets, like some miniature kingdom beneath Safrin's blanket of stars. [say]"So it seemed right to give a last hurrah to Safrin out here."[/say] RE: corona australis - Vesper - 08-25-2025 The shadows curl out at his gesture, trailing across the sand and water like long fingers pulling at whatever the tide has thought to leave behind. Bottles, scraps of rope, a soggy bit of parchment — all of it gathers at his heel, shadows folding it neatly into the sack he drags with him so the shore might gleam cleaner beneath the stars and the low hum of algae light. His mother’s waters deserve that much, at least. Jack’s mind remains shuttered as it always does with him, a blank wall where everyone else’s thoughts spill like floodwater. Vesper doesn’t need to guess too hard why; rumours ripple fast through Torchline, whispers of fire licking the Ark’s hull and smoke trailing from her decks. If Jack’s head is barred, it’s likely for Vesper’s sake as much as it's habit on Jack's part. So it is that Jack's words are a surprise which draw Vesper's attention up from the surf, one brow arched, pale eyes narrowing as another bottle is coaxed from the water by a ribbon of shadow. [say]"That a fact,"[/say] he drawls, voice smooth as the tide rolling in, no more rattled than if Jack had told him the sky was due to rain. A flick of his wrist tucks the bottle into the sack before he glances sidelong, star-flecked freckles catching the torchlight. [say]"Y’got a heading in mind, or is this just leavin’?"[/say] RE: corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 [say]"Mm, bound for King's End,"[/say] Jack confirms. He doesn't say it, but the relief is there in the gentle way his shoulders relax, in the silent breath that escapes his lungs; Vesper hadn't asked why, at least not yet, and the captain hasn't had to answer. [say]"Down to a skeleton crew,"[/say] he continues, [say]"but I got enough to make the trip. Can pick up some new hands at Castaway, with luck."[/say] His sand castle is beginning to take on new details as they speak, grains of sand spiralling up towards the stars - and heating, turning into spindles of glass like narwhal horns in the night. [say]"I got deckhands ready to deliver the notice to all my important contacts before dawn. S'when we'll be headed out,"[/say] he says, glancing sidelong at the boy. [say]"I can give you the list if you reckon you could use it. Shit's gonna be bumpy for a bit when I'm gone."[/say] And who better to step in, if there's a space, than his own blood? RE: corona australis - Vesper - 08-25-2025 Vesper tips his head in a shallow nod, shadows still trailing obediently through the tide for whatever scraps are left. The thing about living inside the noise of other people’s minds is that he’s grown accustomed to reading what isn’t spoken; body language, the subtle slack in Jack’s shoulders, those things slip past him like smoke through a net. So he doesn’t catch the weight behind the captain’s ease, only the words themselves. [say]"Skeleton crew on account of some not wantin’ to go,"[/say] he wonders aloud, voice steady and low, [say]"or you just cuttin’ the fat?"[/say] His eyes stay on the spiral of glass curling up from the sand, faint starlight catching against the translucent horn like a beacon. The offered list stills his hands, though, shadows coiling back in on themselves until the sack of trash is set aside. He drags a palm up along the line of his jaw, thumb brushing the stubble at his cheek before a sigh escapes him. [say]"That somethin’ you’d want?"[/say] he asks finally, the words quieter than before, touched with thought. His head tips, pale hair falling to one side as he studies the man beside him. [say]" It'd be a tether, that. Between you an’ Torchline. Even if it ran through me."[/say] And from everything he could see, if not feel, that didn't seem to be what Jack was looking for. RE: corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 [say]"Bit of both,"[/say] Jack admits; as the spirals of glass reach their zenith, delicate and near molten, the captain switches elements on a dime, fire for ice, and the structure runs through with delicate cracks that refract the starlight in dazzling lines. [say]"Some got too many ties here not to be able to come into port regularly. Others..."[/say] He shrugs. Others didn't like a ship that could catch fire on a whim, apparently. And a few had started to doubt his ability as a captain, so they had to go. Reaching into a pocket for his cigarettes, Jack doesn't bother with a matchbook for the first time in his life; the smoke is already aglow at the tip before it even reaches his lips. [say]"Ain't 'bout what I want, s'whether you reckon you can handle it,"[/say] he says. [say]"S'just a list of useful names. You can do with 'em whatever you want. Nothin', if that's what you choose. But it's there if you want it."[/say] Whether or not it gives a tether to Torchline, it's not as if Jack is going to make himself a regular on the beaches for that kind of leash to be pulled. And as Vesper has already surmised, the rumour mill will turn with his name whether or not he's there to hear it. RE: corona australis - Vesper - 08-25-2025 Vesper’s nod is slow, more thoughtful than anything else, his questions never really for himself so much as for Nova and Caly, who would gnaw on the whys and hows until they drove him mad. Clarification’s worth something, though, and he lets the words settle before tipping his chin in agreement. [say]"Reckon I’d be an idiot not to take it, then,"[/say] he says at last, the admission carried out on a breath that fogs faintly in the cooler night air. [say]"Thanks."[/say] His gaze lingers on the way fire and ice coil so easily at Jack’s hand, bending to will like sand into glass. He’s only ever seen the captain with that kind of command, and the knowledge that even so the Ark had caught flame tells him more about the gravity of it than any whispered rumour could. Blue eyes flicker back to the castle of crystal, its sharp edges glittering with borrowed starlight, and he doesn’t doubt for a moment Jack’ll carve himself another empire out east. And Vesper, for all his distaste for change, makes that crossing often enough he knows this won’t be goodbye in the true sense. Even so, his chest feels heavier than he likes, and the weight of words he doesn’t speak—platitudes, apologies, questions he’s not built to ask—gathers like silt in his throat. He exhales instead, long and low, shoulders folding in against the sudden shift he has no power to slow. [say]"Torchline won’t be the same without you,"[/say] he murmurs finally, simple as he can make it, because it’s all that’ll come. RE: corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 Jack offers a quiet nod, reaching again into his coat to withdraw a neatly folded bit of parchment, handing it off to Vesper with the ease of a shopping list. Within, he'll find not only the names of individuals, but the names of their businesses, the nature of the real work that goes on behind those fronts, and any potential conflicts with others on the list that might be ripe for taking advantage of. Neat, meticulous, detached. Safrin's crystal castle glimmers beneath her night sky, Jack whipping up a gentle breeze to neaten up the more crude lines of his earth magic, until it's as though the creation has grown organically from the ground without any arcane interference. He's got no doubt the goddess might have had something like this commissioned for her at full scale at one point in the past; alas, his small tribute will have to do. [say]"No,"[/say] Jack agrees, gazing over his shoulder at Haulani in the distance, the silhouettes of the palms, the flickering torchlight, the smell of salt and sweetness on the wind. [say]"It won't."[/say] Rolling his shoulders and tearing his gaze away from it, he glances back to the young demigod. [say]"Castaway,"[/say] he repeats, [say]"Or the skies above the Boondocks. At least until Deepfrost is out."[/say] In case he's needed, though for what that might be, he doesn't know. What he could possibly be good for now is a mystery in itself. [say]"You'll let the girls know?"[/say] RE: corona australis - Vesper - 08-25-2025 Vesper takes the parchment like it might bite, unfolding it just long enough for his gaze to skim the neat rows of names and fronts, the sort of ledger that could tilt an empire if handled right. No soot, no blood—no hidden cry for help tucked between the lines. Just business, as clean and sharp as Jack’s hand always is. He folds it back into its creases and tucks it into the inside pocket of his coat, where the shadows curl protectively as if they mean to keep it safe. He doesn’t look up right away; his shoulders draw back, posture held too straight for someone who usually leans into the world like it’s a game to be toyed with. The sack at his feet grows heavier as another shadow drags a broken net free from the tide, the water glimmering clear again once it’s pulled loose. His silence stretches, filled by the low hiss of waves and the distant rattle of dockside voices. [say]"An’ you think leavin’s worth it?"[/say] The question comes low, even, spoken once and left there like a card on the table he won’t pick back up again. His eyes stay on the sea instead of the man beside him, but the quiet draw of his jaw, the too-careful stillness in the way he stands, betrays the truth—that sudden absence doesn’t sit right. He may not have known war or the kind of losses that leave men hollow, but he knows his sisters will ask, and he already doesn’t like the answer he’ll have to give. RE: corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 With his little tribute to Safrin made, his thanks given and his seedy little empire's secrets in the hands of a younger man now, Jack believes, for all intents and purposes, that their business is concluded here. And indeed, at any other time it might have been, but he needs no magic to sense the prickle of hesitance in Vesper's posture, in the words he tries to find, until at last the question tumbles out. Jack sighs, though this time the gesture has him bristling rather than relaxing. Without preamble but without looking at Vesper either, he reaches out a mental hand and drags down his mental shields. Not a fraction - all the way - so the boy might not think to ask his question twice to make sure. The captain's mind is on fire. The delicate network of his magic keens with it, scorched along each and every careful ribbon of connection, frazzling any chance at clear thought and smouldering with something raw and sharp and bone deep. It's pain wrapped in the embarrassment of feeling it, of having shown one's hand only to realise the cards are all jokers. It's the shame of having been proven right - that love is a weapon and that it makes men weak, and Jack Barclay is still only that right now: a man. The situation will be as plain to Vesper as an open book, should he care to read it; memories, conversations, Flora's words and her letter and the belated realisation that she was never coming to meet him at Stormbreak. Because she's here, with Kaisel, right here and right now. Jack stands beside Vesper, burning, and no amount of ice magic will put that fire out. [say]"Stayin' is gonna kill me,"[/say] he tells him as he snaps the shields back up. [say]"I can't concentrate for shit."[/say] RE: corona australis - Vesper - 08-25-2025 The moment Jack lets go, Vesper staggers as if the sand beneath him’s given way, shadows jerking like startled animals at his heels. Heat lashes into his skull, not flame but something crueler—every tether inside Jack flayed raw, seared through, the neat weave of a mind turned into a snarl of frayed threads burning at both ends. It’s too much, too fast, and he nearly doubles with it before forcing himself upright, breath ragged, teeth clenched. For a heartbeat there’s no focus, no horizon—just the molten sprawl of pain and shame and bitter memory, Flora’s outline bright as a knife. He drags his gaze away before it cuts too deep; call it professional courtesy, but even with Jack's shields down, there were things Vesper thought it better he not see. Instead, his grip sharpens on the one face that rises in the fire like smoke through dry timber: Kaisel. Smirking at a birthday, needling until the room turned sour, and now, somehow, tangled in the reason Jack’s walking away. The shields slam back into place and Vesper exhales like he’s surfaced from drowning, breath a hiss that rattles in his chest. He doesn’t look at the captain—can’t—not with his own jaw twitching under the weight of what he’s just felt, instead letting his eyes lock on the black sea near the horizon. For a moment Jack’s words just hang there, and Vesper flinches as though they’ve struck him. His expression shutters, eyes darkening to cold steel, and the words slip out like a blade drawn quiet and sharp. [say]"An’ what if it weren’t you dyin’?"[/say] he asks, low and flat, a childlike naivety that things could just be fixed, dangerously mingling with the outcome of having Jack and Safrin as parents. [say]"Ain’t there someone else whose absence might actually make things better?"[/say] He doesn’t name Kaisel, but the shape of the thought glints clear as glass between them. RE: corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 Jack doesn't apologise, but without thinking his hand reaches to steady Vesper as he staggers, as if to keep him propped upright against the way his mind is burning at the stake. Scoffing out a humourless laugh in the space between them, he shakes his head. [say]"Might make me feel better, but it wouldn't help me think any clearer. That's what'll kill me, if I stay."[/say] He's just a man floundering on instinct right now, no more able to keep a cool head than Apopo at her most turbulent. Not ideal for the sorts of business transactions and other dangerous situations he puts himself in. [say]"Still, what happens after I leave ain't none of my gods-damned business."[/say] He might not be willing to be the one to cause Kaisel harm given that he's the one who makes Flora happy (and ain't that twisted), but if it happens outside of his control? Oh nooooo. [say]"Drop me a line if anythin' good happens."[/say] RE: corona australis - Vesper - 08-25-2025 Vesper doesn’t flinch from the touch, doesn’t call it out either, though some part of him files it away in the dark where he keeps small mercies he doesn’t quite know what to do with. The fire still lingers behind his eyes, a phantom scorch he can’t blink away, but at least he’s steady now, feet rooted in the sand. If he ever needed more proof that distance is armour, it’s this: seeing that pain like wildfire and knowing a knife wouldn’t cut it out, that even if it could, Jack wasn’t about to wield it. That might be the worst of it; not the hurt itself, but the refusal to answer it with anything sharp. Vesper exhales through his teeth, chewing the inside of his cheek until the taste of iron grounds him, head dipping in a vague nod over one shoulder. [say]"You’ll be the first t’know,"[/say] he murmurs, words rough but even, like they’ve been polished down against stone. His gaze stays fixed on the horizon where the water eats the light, his shadows restless around the sack at his feet. [say]"Been spendin’ more time in King’s End myself. Maybe I’ll end up seein’ you out that way."[/say] RE: corona australis - Jack - 08-25-2025 [say]"Good,"[/say] Jack says, cocking a smile out at the water and flicking the ash from his cigarette, before replacing it between his lips and burying his hands in the pockets of his coat. [say]"Mm, that so?"[/say] He knows why, but given the nature of their conversation so far, it's for the best that he doesn't delve into any of the details. [say]"Maybe you will,"[/say] he agrees, and if a small part of him is looking forward to it, he'll never tell. [say]"You can explain as much as you want to your sisters. Just warn 'em in advance that if they ask me direct 'bout it, I won't be talkin'."[/say] In fact, it might be a very good way to get on the captain's bad side, and Vesper has already caught a glimpse of what that looks like right now. [say]"Look after yourself,"[/say] he says, offering a quiet nod to the boy before he departs back down the beach, leaving soft prints in the sand and a whorl of smoke in his wake, soon to be erased by the wind and the sea. ~FIN |