flannel cure

JACK

"If it's any consolation, she's dyin' because she's the bigger threat." Which, yay for feminism? Maybe? Jack neither knows nor cares, honestly, and he's got the rest of the time before dark to sift through their minds in more detail. Who knows - perhaps the gentleman thief will make himself out to be more of an issue in the next few hours? Raising a brow right back at the Doubletake, Jack doesn't give explicit details about his plans, it's true, but as he clenches a fist and opens it against the railing, Flora will be able to see the wickedly sharp points of ice that have appeared there. Enough said, he hopes.

Rolling his shoulders in the wake of her touch, Jack straightens up and watches as the ladder is withdrawn, as the rest of the passengers go to mill about the deck and the skyship makes its slow turn away from the heat of The Climb. Only when Flora's thoughts come back into range does he turn, holding a hand out gratefully for the considerable amount of whiskey. And she's right, of course - the flat look the captain levels at her is proof enough over the rim of his glass - and he lowers the whiskey to wrinkle his nose around at the ship.

"She is," he agrees, "but it's not always the ship's fault. Maybe this crew'll be better than the last one."

believer, believe it or not you'll know
when it ends and how it goes