call me chaos, call me divine

JACK

The moment feels both simple and right, and Jack realises suddenly that he's been suspicious of it. Anything he's had that feels worth having - The Ark aside - had brought with it the strange sensation of yes, but.

He'd been the kingpin of Torchline's underworld, yes, but that entire world had constantly tried to oust him or kill him, holding knives at his throat or back while smiling to his face.

He can read every mind in a 60ft radius, every desire and sin and secret, yes, but he's also able to hear the very worst things people have to say to themselves - and about him, too. Not to mention the sometimes paper-thin walls of his sanity that the gift has cost him over the years.

He'd fallen in love - a thing that feels like it was dragged out of him just as much as it was freely given - and had learned to be more than what he was, yes, but she hadn't wanted him, in the end.

Only now does Jack realise he's been waiting for it, for The Ark to be all that she is and more still, and for there to be some sinister catch. The fact that it hasn't happened yet doesn't entirely settle his mind either, though there's something to be said for her predator's smile and her ready agreement. The way she knows him is old and new all at once, and as she props herself up, all fiery waves and wicked delight, he starts to trust this new version of reality just a little more.

"Let 'em try," he agrees, voice low and satisfied, before his gaze trails out into the water again. "Well," he says. "You got a name, you got a purpose. Now all we need is a destination. An' while I still ain't got a real headin' in mind, for the time bein', King's End is as good a place as any."

fight so dirty but you love so sweet
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

The Ark

The Ark meets his gaze without flinching, her smile slow and knowing, all vixen warmth and sea-born certainty. There is something almost ceremonial in the way he says King’s End, as though naming it gives shape to the next stretch of horizon, and she nods once in quiet agreement. She has heard the crew speak of a rodeo—dust and hooves and shouting crowds, leather and sunburn and spectacle—and though it is not water, it is still movement, still something to be devoured, still something to do with him.

With a languid breath she arches back into the sand, pressing her shoulders and spine down as if to memorize the sensation. The grains are hot now beneath her, clinging less aggressively than before, and she lets the sun soak into her skin until it feels like varnish warming over fresh wood. For a heartbeat longer she luxuriates there, lashes lowering, lips parted in a contented half-smile that belongs equally to siren and ship, then one eye cracks open, mischievous and bright. "Okay," she says lightly, rolling up into a sitting position, long red hair cascading down her back in a molten wave. "You swim us back, and I’ll take us to King’s End."

She turns her head over her shoulder to look at him fully, blue eyes softened just enough to betray the sincerity beneath the varnish. "Thanks, Jack," she adds, and the words are simple but not careless. "As far as first outings go..I really liked this one." Then she extends both hands toward him, palms open, fingers flexing once in invitation. There is an expectation there, apparently, that his portion of transporting them begins right then.

Behind them the Spillwave glitters wide and patient, and farther still the Ark rocks gently at anchor.

~FIN

Her touch is like a tempest, her whisper is a breeze,
but when she has a temper, she'll bring you to your knees

Code stolen from Queen Sky