sinking

JACK

hellraiser
risk taker

The Ark doesn't sail back into Kaiholo Port - she flies, and it's still such a deliciously new experience during the daytime that Jack thoroughly enjoys her descent into the warm Torchline waters, the way she cuts through the turquoise waves after just being airborne, the way she glides effortlessly into port to put down anchor. It's just past dawn by the time he leaves her and heads off down the coast towards one of his favourite stalls for breakfast - a little tucked away place within the foliage of the palms and grasses, where all but the most vigilant are likely to pass by.

It's on his way back, with a cup of hot, spiked coffee still in hand, that he catches a little twinkle of familiar thoughts, but of course the Doubletake is nowhere to be found. That means nothing to a man like Jack, as Flora will well know by now, and though she's invisible, her clothes are not. Thus the captain finds himself standing beside two suspicious lookingh holes in the sand, the waves lapping around them rather than through them, his coffee in one hand and a pair of very lovely underwear in the other.

"You ought to keep these better hidden," he drawls. "There are real shady types about who'd love a pair of your undies."

full speed ahead
'til i'm dead