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+---- Thread: I miss the misery (/showthread.php?tid=12335)
I miss the misery - Jack - 01-03-2026
Rae's words echo in Jack's mind like something almost spiteful as the wind roars through The Ark's sails, the air biting even on a Longheat morning, the sunlight reaching like streamers through the crags of the mountain peaks.
The effort you put in will determine what she becomes.
Well he doesn't want to hear a fucking word about the effort he's putting in to get a lick of fire from Caido's Lighthouse, because if he and the ship make it out in one piece it'll be a gods damned miracle.
He can see the dragons as smudges of darkness in the air and against the cliffsides, sometimes shadows on the wing, other times screeching masses of teeth and claw overhead, and they've had enough close calls already without him daring to do anything other than keep the fuck going. And speaking of keeping the fuck going, he's sure he can see something else too, close enough for its butterfly sail to be recognisable, but Jack has promptly decided that he's hallucinating it, despite the pings of recognition from some of the other men, notably Bassian.
Sweat beads on his brow from the effort of the magic he's wielding to keep The Ark's sails full and her bow steady, and any other crewmember with magic helpful enough to provide assistance has been pulled from their usual duties to give it. He can hear Murphy's call from the wheel and through his magic, his usually unflappable first mate rigid with tension as he informs them that they've found the lighthouse.
[say]"Sail over her an' I'll drop down,"[/say] Jack yells back. [say]"Then get her the fuck outta here - I'll do the rest!"[/say] The rest being to collect the fire and compass away from this draconic hellscape.
RE: I miss the misery - Flora - 01-03-2026
Flora has never believed in the idea of a true edge to the world, but standing here again makes her reconsider, the air so thin and sharp it feels like it could shear thought clean in half, the mountains rolling away beneath her in impossible folds of stone and snow. The Sugartide is anchored nearby, small and stubborn against the scale of it all, and Flora leaves her there with practiced trust, Spice fidgeting at her shoulder as the wind tugs at loose curls and the sweater wrapped around her throat. Several unlit torches are balanced carefully in her arms, clean and waiting, and her fingers brush instinctively against the familiar weight of her daggers as she climbs, step by deliberate step, toward the light at the top of the Lighthouse.
The climb is not gentle; the stairs coil and narrow, their stone steps worn smooth by ages from the feet of those who have bested dragons and the odds to reach this place. At the top, the glow is steady and strange and she pauses only long enough to set the torches in place. This is not about guilt or appeasement, not really. It's about acknowledgement of the fact that Flora has gone to other gods for Torchline recently, but wanting to show her gratitude for Safrin by bringing down flame from on high to light her shrine with.
One by one the torches capture the fire, the flame blooming steady and sure and Flora exhales a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding; some vague part of her wondered if fire could even be carried away from this place.
RE: I miss the misery - Jack - 01-03-2026
If fire can't be taken from this place then Jack is going to have yet another bone to pick with Rae by the time he's done. The Captain, utterly unaware of what awaits him in the lighthouse, is already preparing for the descent, hiking himself over the side of The Ark on one of the rope ladders and trusting Murphy to belay the orders that will get her close enough for him to complete the jump.
He's too far for his telepathy to pick up what his first mate is actively doing - which is probably a good thing, because it means he'll miss the quiet fuck that accompanies true recognition of the Sugar Tide anchored nearby. Whether it coincides with the fact that the dragons - still very present, freewheeling all around - aren't daring any closer is a thought that will need to wait for another day.
Right now, with her captain fluttering on a rope ladder like a war banner, The Ark looks like something from out of a swashbuckler's wet dream, rusty sails catching in the light, hull suspended effortlessly in the air. It takes a few swings for the window of the top of the lighthouse to get remotely in reach, but the second it enters the realm of true possibility, Jack makes the leap.
Air magic condenses around him in a blast that leaves him lightheaded when he makes contact with the stone, and as such it's not as elegant a landing as he would have liked. Instead of a graceful hop into the top of the lighthouse, Jack lands in a crouch that becomes a roll that will bring him - you fucking guessed it - right at Flora's feet when he tumbles to a stop.
RE: I miss the misery - Flora - 01-03-2026
Flora is not aware of what's going on above the lighthouse; her attention has narrowed to flame and wick as she finishes coaxing fire into the last waiting torch. It is only Spice’s sudden trill that cuts sharp and impatient through the thin air, a sound pitched wrong enough to set every nerve on edge, and Flora turns just in time to see a body unfurl across the stone in front of her.
Jack.
The world lurches, panic spiking hot and immediate, guilt and surprise crashing together hard enough to steal the breath from her lungs, and for a heartbeat she can only stare at him like he has stepped straight out of the half-waking nightmares that have stalked her sleep ever since Stormbreak. Months collapse into nothing. The top of the world feels abruptly, impossibly small.
Her hand comes up on instinct, torch flaring between them as she draws back toward the brazier, flame held like a warning she has not decided how to use, fingers tight enough to ache. There is no ocean here, no horizon of water to explain or even predict Jack's presence; only stone and sky and the unbearable reality of seeing him again when she wasn't sure such a thing would ever come to be, least of all here.
Flora swallows hard, throat tight, eyes wide and unguarded as she gapes at him in stunned silence, heart hammering against her ribs while the fire crackles softly and unbothered at her back.
tldr; insert spiderman gif here
RE: I miss the misery - Jack - 01-03-2026
The ground greets Jack unkindly to say the least, in places that will bruise and complain for days to come, but he hasn't missed the window and he isn't plummeting to his fucking death, and so he takes that as a win.
At first.
As he rights himself, more or less, knees pressing to the old marble and shoulders aching sharply all the while, Flora's mind collides with his telepathy like a gods damned jumpscare. Jack flinches back with enough force to scrape his knees further against the floor, and the air within the lighthouse grows still and dangerous in a way that is entirely deliberate on the Captain's part.
What happens next isn't deliberate at all. He feels it - the cold shock, the panic, the slosh of guilt and surprise and upset that he doesn't want any part of, his mind reacting as viscerally as his magic as he blocks her from his thoughts with every drop of power in his possession. Beneath him and crawling up at the wall at his back, ice splinters out in jagged, undisciplined spikes; the scent of ozone hangs heavy in the air; a few pebbles on the ground skitter and ping away towards the walls.
And then there's the fire, the magic surging up with a lack of control that's unbecoming of the Captain, and his attempts to stifle it are seemingly met with resistance even while the ice at his back begins to melt. Forcing himself to his feet, hands grazed and chest heaving, his what the fuck dies on his tongue, Jack instead gesturing vaguely to the brazier still burning behind the Doubletake.
[say]"You're in the way."[/say]
RE: I miss the misery - Flora - 01-03-2026
The wind cuts through the top of the lighthouse without warning, ice skittering across stone as Flora twists instinctively away, arm lifting to shield herself as she brandishes the torch between them. The flame gutters violently, sputtering under the sudden pressure, and her breath catches sharp and uneven in her chest as panic spikes again, sharper for the way it feels like his fault and hers all at once.
Then the air stills, just enough. Flora exhales a shaky breath, the torch steadied back into something that will not immediately betray her, and she looks at Jack properly for the first time. He looks exactly the same; infuriatingly, painfully unchanged, all sharp angles and familiar lines, like time has decided to be cruelly selective about what it erodes. The unreality of it hits harder than the cold, Jack standing there in front of her at the top of the world as if he has every right to exist in this space she'd have thought was the last place she'd ever see him again.
[say]"I’m in the w—"[/say] she starts, then cuts herself off, glancing back over her shoulder at the brazier as confusion threads through the fear. Had he followed her here? Had he really come all this way just to have it out with her one last time? Maybe even to kill her up here, thinking perhaps it was too far for her father's to fly to bring her back?
Flora reaches for the torches she left behind, movements clumsy as she gathers them and pulls them aside, eyes never quite leaving him, still half-expecting him to vanish or lunge if she blinks. For a breathless second she even wonders if he means to take one, steal the fire right out of her hands. [say]"What are you doing here?"[/say] she finally asks, voice light but unsteady, heart still hammering as she stands far too close to a man she never expected to see again, let alone here, with no ocean between them at all.
RE: I miss the misery - Jack - 01-03-2026
It's hard enough to look at Flora without the familiar ricochet of her thoughts to batter his magic into submission, and Jack takes a second to reinforce those mental walls that shield him from having to listen to it all, leaving just enough of a crack for anything truly vicious or with violent intent. That's about the only thread of magic he has a firm grip on, the Captain straightening up and ignoring the scrapes he'd picked up from his unconvential entrance, swallowing hard and trying to stifle the fire and ice as they fight for dominance.
The fire wins out ultimately as Flora speaks, a muscle feathering in Jack's jaw and a hand coming up to bat away the embers from the sleeve of his shirt that's starting to smoulder. [say]"A quest,"[/say] he replies, voice clipped as he gestures for the brazier again, reaching back to withdraw a small torch tucked into his belt, one clearly not intended to brave the elements outside. No, he's got other plans to keep the fire alight once it's back in the safety of his cabin, but first he needs to get some of it without combusting himself.
Inhaling a slow, deep breath that fails to be as grounding as he'd like it to be, the Captain eventually stalks around the top of the lighthouse as far from Flora as he can get. He waits until he's close enough to the bright plumes of fire before coaxing some of it away with his magic, the flame bending to his will to kiss at the torch until it properly catches.
RE: I miss the misery - Flora - 01-03-2026
Flora’s frown deepens as she takes in the scrapes along his knees, the way his sleeve still smoulders despite his efforts to bat it out, and instinct nudges past sense before she can stop it. She reaches into the pocket of her jacket and draws out a small flask, holding it out toward him without stepping any closer, careful not to close the distance he has so deliberately carved between them. [say]"Torchline’s healing fountain water can be used anywhere now,"[/say] she says quietly, the words half an offering and half an explanation, trailing off because she does not trust herself to say more without something in her chest giving way, or to use her healing ring.
Her gaze flicks back to the fire as it bends toward him, confusion knitting briefly between her brows. Fire had never been his to control, and the thought lodges somewhere to be worried over later when she has time to make the connection between the fire on board the Ark the letter she'd sent Jack, filed away with all the other things she has learned too late. Right now, she is caught between the sharp instinct to put distance between them before this becomes something volatile, and the aching pull of a moment she knows she will never get again.
He has what he came for, she can see that. The certainty of his leaving hums beneath everything, setting her nerves on edge as her thoughts ricochet through all the spaces left unfinished, the words unsaid, the locked room in her house she still cannot bring herself to empty, the way storms have learned how to sound like him and how some nights she still can't sleep because of them.
[say]"Jack..."[/say] she says softly, his name a fragile thing in her mouth, trailing off, doubtful whether there is any chance at all that it would be enough to make him stay.
RE: I miss the misery - Jack - 01-03-2026
[say]"Good for Torchline."[/say] To no one's surprise, Jack doesn't glance at the flask let alone reach for it, and that alone might be an indication to Flora that he's shut himself out of her mind deliberately. He'll deal with his bruises and scrapes in his own time (and with his own liquor rather than any magical healing water). Lingering by the brazier for long enough to ensure the torch has caught, the Captain twists it this way and that until the flame crackles bright and radiant, a tiny twin to the enormous brazier that spawned it.
Feeling suddenly very thirsty and with embers still trying unsuccessfully to eat at the centuries old marble beneath his feet, Jack rests the torch in a nearby bracket meant for a sconce, once upon a time, and pushes up the sleeve that hasn't been attacked by his own magic. The compass rose tattoo, inky and threaded with celestial magic, glints on his wrist like something fresh and new despite him having had it for some time, and he's just grabbing the torch in preparation to get the hell out of dodge when his name hits the air.
[say]"What, Flora?"[/say] he snaps automatically without looking at her, heading instead to the window he'd spilled in from, leaning out to see whether he can spot The Ark.
RE: I miss the misery - Flora - 01-03-2026
Flora barely reacts when Jack dismisses the flask, having more or less expected it, the hope flickering out as quietly as it had sparked. She draws her hand back, tucks the flask safely into her pocket, and feels the faint prickle of foolishness settle under her skin for having offered anything at all.
She watches him instead, the way he rolls his sleeve up, the flash of ink and starlit magic at his wrist, the purposeful way he turns toward the window like anywhere in the world is preferable to the space he shares with her now. The bite in his voice makes her flinch despite herself, breath catching hard in her chest even though she knew it was coming, even though hearing her name like that still feels like having the air knocked out of her. He doesn't tell her to fuck off, though, which is something.
Flora does not have time to think given the way The Captain already feels half gone and with the words already pressing too hard against her ribs to be contained any longer, so she lets them spill out, wondering how much rope he'll let her have before he hangs her with it. [say]"You deserved better than a letter,"[/say] she says, heart hammering so loudly she is half-sure he can hear it. [say]"It was a cowardly thing to do, and you deserved better than that after everything we—"[/say] Her voice falters, heat rushing into her cheeks as the months of guilt and grief burn hot and immediate, no longer safely packed away, threatening to burn her from the inside out.
Her aqua eyes shine, tears shiny and painful, and she swallows hard around the ache in her throat, knowing this will never sound the way it needs to, knowing it will never carry all of it; not the locked room, not the way his leaving Torchline had broken her heart, not his voice in every storm, or the way she'd do it differently if she could do it over. Still, she says it anyway, soft and raw and utterly unguarded. [say]"I’m so sorry, Jack, and—"[/say]
RE: I miss the misery - Jack - 01-03-2026
[say]"I know."[/say] Jack's voice is quiet and blunt, his eyes still on the sky as he thinks he manages to spot the shape of his ship, safe from an assault by dragons and blessedly close enough for him to get to. He knows it had been a cowardly thing to do and he knows he'd deserved better - yes, even Jack Barclay deserves better when it comes to being dared to love someone enough that he'd believed it could be real.
[say]"Yeah, I don't care, and I don't forgive you."[/say] He doesn't quite cut off her apology before she does it herself, but the timing makes it sound that way, Jack ducking back in through the window with his back to Flora and her tears. [say]"You did what you did, now live with it. And if you see me again, do us both a favour and pretend you fuckin' didn't. You've taken enough from me without wastin' more of my time."[/say]
Straightening up and pretending that this minute long meeting hasn't reopened every wound he thought had finally stopped bleeding, Jack brushes his fingers across the compass rose inked into his wrist, and promptly disappears.
~FIN