[SE] the poetry of the earth

JACK

It's a rarity for Jack to find himself this far inland, and especially without The Ark in tow. But he'd told his crew to stay between New Haven and the Skyport - told them specifically to have a grand old time without him for the evening, in fact - and has taken himself as far out of Mourn as possible. The result is this place - a sprawling hedge maze up ahead, clogged with fragrant blooms and looking, for all the world, like the pages of a storybook come to life.

Jack, though, is frowning. He stands at the entrance of the would-be maze, gazing up at it as if worried it's going to jump out and bite him. It's not the location so much as it's the abundance of plantlife, of earth all around, and it's with a curious itch in the back of his mind that he tries to shake the feeling off and focus. This very same feeling is what has brought him out here, and he clenches his jaw as if he might be able to crush it via willpower alone.

Nothing of the sort happens, of course, but his lingering near the hedgerows has brought the attention of something else, and he narrows his eyes at the sudden purplish writhing among the leaves. Void vipers, clearly intent on mischief. Jack is quite keen all of a sudden to ensure they find it.

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame

The last time I was here was half a year ago, give or take. Me and Mom had decided—her idea, surprisingly—to do something lighthearted. “Some damn fun for once,” she’d said, and I caught her laughing in the hedges before I did. We got lost on purpose, ran in circles, and somewhere in the middle of it, I lost a ribbon and scraped up my leg, and she looked happy in a way I hadn’t seen in months.

So I came back.

Just to see if some piece of that joy might still be tucked between the roses.

I’m just inside the maze, I haven’t gone much further than the entrance. But the second I spot a flicker of purple movement near the hedge maze entrance, all the warmth drops out of me. I crouch instinctively, fingers slipping around the hilt of a dagger as I move through the sloped brush. Quiet, steady, eyes tracking the unnatural motion. It winds through the leaves.

Not joy between the roses. Void serpents. Why not.

Then I see him. A familiar figure, sharp and solid, standing just beyond the opening, staring at the same movement I was.

Jack.

I blink, startled—and grin. I step into view, dagger hanging at my side.

“You always sneak off to rose gardens when your ship’s not looking?”

Theea

I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line

JACK

Theea's thoughts prickle along his telepathy like the thorns of the very roses they're both staring at (and the serpents twisting within), and Jack's eyes flick towards her as she appears. His hands are still in his pockets, his hair loose around his shoulders, the sunbleached tips stirring with the cool breeze. "Only on special occasions," he tells her with a sly smile and an incline of his head. "You lookin' for trouble, or runnin' from it?"

At that moment, trouble strikes out from the rosebushes without warning - evidently the vipers are more bloodthirsty than friendly - and although Jack intends to aim a crackle of lightning towards them, another element entirely beats him to it. The hedgerows themselves bend and coil about the creature, strangling it and yanking it back within their midst. And now, Jack has heard about this particular rose garden being alive, but he's got a funny feeling that was all him.

"...Might wanna step clear of there," he mutters to Theea, distracted.

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame

My smirk softens into a grin, and I reach up to tuck a stubborn piece of hair behind my ear, the breeze trying to pull it loose again. I open my mouth—half a question forming about what sort of occasion he means—but I don’t get the chance to ask.

A void viper lunges from the bushes like it’s been waiting for the cue.

I suck in a sharp breath, body snapping taut, my dagger in hand before I can even think—

But I don’t have to.

The hedges move faster than I do. Branches twist and lash out like whips, thorned and deliberate, seizing the viper mid-air. They wrap around its writhing body, one curling tight around its neck, and then yank it backward into the depths of the rose maze.

I blink. My blade is still raised, frozen in mid-air. Slowly, I lower it and glance at Jack.

“I tend to just run into it,” I mutter, my voice a tick higher than it should be. I clear my throat and try again, gesturing vaguely at the hedge with the tip of my dagger. “...Did you do that? Or are we gonna get swallowed up by homicidal topiary too?”

I spot something else shifting in the hedges. I squint a little, raising my dagger again. I shift a little toward Jack. You know, the guy that has lightning magic like mom and has who knows what else up his sleeve. But this time when the viper darts out, I'm ready for it.

It's low to the ground, and I swing my dagger down in time to pin it through it's body to the ground. It writhes, and I grimace with a shiver before I take my other dagger and jab it through the head. "I hate these things."

Theea

I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line

Your leg, ahh! It’s caught in a bear trap some quicksand moss! Quickly you sink in up to your knee as what you had thought to be just a patch of dry moss begins to slowly devour you. If you aren’t freed in about 30 minutes, you’ll lose the leg.

You’ve encountered Quicksand Moss! It should be fairly easy to escape from, though you might experience lingering pain or swelling in your leg.

Quicksand Moss - Quicksand moss has the appearance of dead moss, although in reality, this brown colour is due to it consuming animals instead of sunlight. It grows anywhere a regular moss or lichen would, but grabs any creature foolish enough to come near and quickly digests them.

JACK

"Mm, I'm tempted to agree with you . It's twice you've run into me, after all," Jack agrees, though he's still very much preoccupied with the void vipers and the hedgerows seemingly taking it upon themselves to eat the threat. "...I dunno," he admits. "Maybe? I ain't ever had earth magic, but I wasn't feelin' right, which is why I came out here..."

Theea draws closer and another viper strikes, but Jack doesn't have to so much as wiggle his fingers in his pockets before it's dispatched. He raises an eyebrow, impressed. "You didn't mention those skills when you wanted to be an oddbody on my ship," he says, taking a step to the right only to find himself suddenly pulled downward.

With a silent snarl on his lips, he glares toward the quicksand moss and, almost as if by fate, if he hadn't been sure about the new magic then, he fucking will be now. Reaching into some untouched part of himself, with fingers of will, he parts the creature's hold on him and rakes the earth back, protesting, to free his leg. "What the fuck is wrong with this place," he complains, brushing off his pant leg and raising a brow at Theea to see if she's encountered any more bullshit.

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame

I let out a short breath of a laugh and shake my head at the mention of trouble. “I had a feeling back at the birthday party—things don’t exactly stay calm around you.”

I start to say more, to explain, but the ground shifts under my foot before the words make it out.

“Shit—”

My boot sinks fast into the moss, but I react faster—pulling back hard before it can take hold. My foot comes free with a rough tug, and I stumble a step before catching myself. Jack’s already dragging his own leg out nearby, and the moss pulls back like it hadn’t moved at all.

I eye it warily. “Alright. So the topiary really is trying to kill us.”

Sliding my dagger back into its sheath, I dust the dirt from my fingers. “And yeah. I’ve had training. Would’ve been embarrassing not to—I was raised by prolific assassins.”

I glance toward the hedge again, watching the leaves twitch like they’re listening.

“You should try something,” I say, nodding at the plants. “The way they moved—it was when you needed it. Magic showing up out of nowhere isn’t exactly rare in Caido.”

Theea

I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line

JACK

"From one troublemaker to another, I'm sure you'll agree that calm is just somethin' that passes by every now an' then," Jack says, scoffing under his breath and leaning down to tighten the laces of his boots now that he's free of the quicksand moss. "Sure fuckin' seems that way. Maybe I was better off tryin' to figure this out at the Boondocks," he agrees, eyeing the moss and stepping pointedly around it.

Unable to help but laugh at the term - prolific assassins - Jack raises his eyebrows at Theea. "Ain't that I disbelieve you," he quips (because he doesn't, and he can read the truth plain in her thoughts), "but I'd imagine bein' well-known was detrimental to assassinatin' people." What with the general public's preference for being alive and all.

Wrinkling his nose at the suggestion he try again with the new magic, Jack grunts and nevertheless tugs at that newborn part of himself once more. In response, the hedgerows peel back and rock erupts in sharp points around their roots, dragged forth from the deep earth. It's clumsy and unrefined and exactly the sort of thing he might expect from a new ability. "Wow," the captain mutters, "hate that."

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame

I nod at that, unable to argue. A laugh slips out of me before I can help it, dry and genuine, and I shake my head as I brush a bit of dirt off my leg.

“My mom liked the infamy more than my dad did,” I say, the words coming easy now. “She had this cloak she always wore—super blue and dramatic as hell. So people would know who did the job. She was good at it, sure, but I don’t think murder was really her calling.” I shrug, not defending or condemning it. Just stating it like it is.

“Probably should’ve been a performer. Or an artist. Something with applause instead of blood.” My gaze flicks toward the thorns, then down at the dirt where the moss had tried to pull him in. “That was years before I was born anyway. And in a completely different world.”

I don’t say it aloud, but sometimes I wonder if I see death a little too plainly. If being raised by people who thought of it as a job left me more detached than I ought to be. The thought flickers past, but I let it go just as fast.

Because right then, the hedge shifts. Sharp, jagged stone erupts from the dirt at Jack’s feet, and the hedgerows have recoiled like they’ve been told off.

I blink.

“Huh.” I take a step closer to look, arching a brow up at him. “Why would you hate that? That’s cool!” Of course, I think magic in general is cool. I was raised by it but never had any of my own.

Theea

I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line

JACK

"Sounds like some legend you'd tell on a rainy night," Jack rumbles, a half-smile curling up one side of his lips. There are ghost stories aplenty already in Caido, some of them true as well; luckily, given that he and his crew spend most of their time on the move in the sky or on the waves, it doesn't leave that many opportunities for assassinations. (And the telepathy helps too).

Perhaps he ought to have been a performer as well in another life, though it's a thought he quickly scoffs away. Jack doubts there would have been applause even if there'd been a lack of blood in his upbringing. "Either way, you ought'a thank your parents for equippin' you to deal with shit," he reasons, before their focus is on the ailing hedgerow and his shiny new magic.

Grunting something non-commital and flexing his hands as if it might get rid of the power in his fingertips, Jack shrugs. "Ain't much call for a sailor with earth magic," he points out. "Useless unless I'm on land."

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame

I grin at his remark, my thoughts drifting to real rainy nights and warm fires—when I was small enough to curl into my mother’s side and listen to stories of real people told like legends. I used to hang on every word, never realizing how recent some of those tales were. And now, looking at him, I wonder if he’s becoming one of them—the way people talk about him.

I think about the life I lived with my parents. They taught me how to survive, how to move fast, fight harder, keep my footing no matter what. I know how to defend myself, sure. But the rest of it—the living part, the messy, emotional, deeply human part—I think they struggled to pass that on. Not that I’d admit that aloud. People already look at me like some strange little fish that’s flopped its way onto the deck. No sense confirming it.

“It definitely keeps me alive,” I agree, my voice lighter. “They started me when I was like four. Blunt stuff, but still.”

I tilt my head toward the stone jutting out of the ground, and then crook a grin up at him. “Start a garden on the Ark and you’ll have a defense no other skyship has.” I’m mostly joking—but not entirely. Who knows how deep this magic runs?

“What other kinds of magic do you have, anyway?” I ask, curiosity warming my words. “I always hoped I’d get magic. Never happened.” The admission leaves my lips easily, not quite a wound, but maybe a want that never went away.

Theea

I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line

JACK

Opting not to think of the man, the myth, the legend in the making he might be becoming, if only because he bets it'll be due to petty drama rather than anything he'd be proud of, Jack scoffs and inclines his head towards Theea. "Sounds like good parentin'," he says. "Not that I'd have any fuckin clue." Not as a parent himself and not as a child, either, but that's not a subject he delves into with many people - if any, any more.

A garden on The Ark has Jack pausing where he's been reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, and he blinks at her openly, unsure whether it's the most clever or stupid idea he's ever heard. "An' where would it go?" he settles on in the end.

It's not often that anyone is quite so bold as to ask directly what magic you got, then, and Jack is startled into a scoff of laughter. Telepathy aside, though, he shrugs and takes a step back. "Storm in a bottle, pretty much," he says - and as he reaches for the smokes, the wind around them kicks up into a howling gale, flecked with ice and rain and the unmistakeable stench of ozone in the air, threatening sparks of lightning. "Ain't all it's cracked up to be. But it ain't half bad either," he says.

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame

I shrug a little at his comment on parenting, though the weight behind it sticks with me.

“They did a lot for me.”

More than he probably realizes. Every decision they made, even the ones I hated—especially the isolation—was because they thought it would keep me safe. I know that now. My mom got wrapped up in things that left a lot of people dead.

So yeah. I guess I’m grateful, in part.

I tilt my head at his question, considering it more seriously than I probably should. “Could do it right on the quarterdeck,” I offer. “Gets plenty of sun, and it’d be a nice backdrop while steering. Maybe something that smells good—lavender, mint…” I trail off, then snort quietly. “Hell, you could make the plants steer for you.” The idea makes me laugh, and it feels easy.

Then he calls up a storm.

The wind rushes into me, sharp and sudden. Rain needles down from nowhere. My skin tingles with the promise of lightning, and gods, it’s familiar—reminds me of mountain storms, of standing beside mom when she let her magic loose.

I grin like I can’t help it. “What could possibly be wrong with having magic?”

Theea

I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line

JACK

Grunting in response to Theea's (quite detailed, and not all that bad, actually) suggestions about The Ark's garden-to-be, the fact that Jack hasn't rejected it outright is basically open approval in and of itself. He considers the logistics of it while he strikes a match and lights his cigarette, all from the eye of the storm he's created around himself. Only once he thinks she's had an adequate demonstration does he allow the magic to fade, the breeze calming, the air growing fresh and clean once more.

"Nothin', I s'pose, once you got full control of it," Jack says with a shrug. "It ain't like it jumps outta you fully formed, though. It can cause a fuckton of trouble if you ain't careful 'bout what you can do, an' it'll take a lot outta you while it's fuckin' shit up." It's why he'd come out here, away from The Ark, away from the crew, to investigate the itch in the back of his mind which had turned out to be earth magic.

"Anyway, I'm 'bout done with hedgerows an' void vipers. You stickin' around here? I'm headed back to the Boondocks."

when I look at something, I see it for what it could be
when I look at something, I see how it ends

Code stolen from Queen Sky