JACK
"Picture it in the same way you'd picture me haulin' a shipment of contraband onto The Ark from somewhere," Jack suggests with a soft smirk of his own. No, the captain doesn't mosey through the Torchline stalls to fondle sheets for their threadcount, but he does like what he likes, and he has ways of making it happen. Regardless of the how of it, it's clearly adequate, and he turns his head ever so slightly to listen as Flora speaks of the fight.
"We don't even see 'em much out on the open water - sea panthers, I mean. Let alone shit like what happened to that thing." And being on land versus in the water hadn't made a damned bit of difference to its speed, Jack wrinkling his nose as the memory causes his bruises to sing anew.
His brows furrow as if to try and chase the sensation away, the captain caught instead in the soft shower of Flora's thoughts, of the things she hadn't said before they'd been rudely interrupted by fighting for their lives. "Night, Flora," he mutters, eyes slipping shut again. Jack is out like a light within moments, distantly grateful that the Doubletake has had the foresight to lock his door.
For the rest of the day and well into the night, Jack sleeps as though it's his job.
It's more like very early morning into the next day when he finally begins to stir, having shifted onto his side as well throughout his slumber, face buried in his pillow, breathing slow and deep and steady. Blue eyes blink open into the dark, the heat, and without thinking much about it, his air magic finally swirls around the room in a cool breeze; a relief in the sticky Torchline night.
"We don't even see 'em much out on the open water - sea panthers, I mean. Let alone shit like what happened to that thing." And being on land versus in the water hadn't made a damned bit of difference to its speed, Jack wrinkling his nose as the memory causes his bruises to sing anew.
His brows furrow as if to try and chase the sensation away, the captain caught instead in the soft shower of Flora's thoughts, of the things she hadn't said before they'd been rudely interrupted by fighting for their lives. "Night, Flora," he mutters, eyes slipping shut again. Jack is out like a light within moments, distantly grateful that the Doubletake has had the foresight to lock his door.
For the rest of the day and well into the night, Jack sleeps as though it's his job.
It's more like very early morning into the next day when he finally begins to stir, having shifted onto his side as well throughout his slumber, face buried in his pillow, breathing slow and deep and steady. Blue eyes blink open into the dark, the heat, and without thinking much about it, his air magic finally swirls around the room in a cool breeze; a relief in the sticky Torchline night.
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
