there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters
"A good start would be by askin' what I mean when I say I won't stop fightin', so I can tell you exactly what I plan to fuckin' do?" Jack points out. "An' if you'll remember, I did object to you goin' to Dahlia to make any sort of weird deal, but I wouldn't stop you from sittin' out of danger." There are degrees of fighting and not-fighting, evidently.
As for her very good points, Jack concedes with a reluctant nod of his head. "In my defence, I really was as much of a bastard as you make me out to be back then," he mutters. "And quit usin' metaphors that make so much sense to me. That's also manipulation." Perhaps there's even the smallest lick of amusement in his voice, because gods if it isn't nice for her to be angry at him over familiar things.
But then she's moving too quickly for even his telepathy to catch it, Jack awash in some swirling amalgamation of her emotions as she collides with him hard enough to push the air from his lungs in a huff. And he's clutching hold of her just as tightly - granted, some of that is to keep from falling over, but only some - an arm coiling around her waist and the other plunging into her windswept curls.
Opting to nose into her hair rather than letting his own words tumble out - then why did you leave, you little idiot? - it's a long few moments of warmth and relief and the sound of Flora's muffled sobs before he does speak. "You should've just come to the ship," he mumbles, smoothing his fingers down the back of her neck. "This could've been figured out days ago."
Sighing heavily - and he's still reeling from Flora's unexpectedly deep emotional welts, but that can wait - he glances up towards The Ark. "We'll meet them at the skyport?" he suggests to her. "Or do you want to go up?"
As for her very good points, Jack concedes with a reluctant nod of his head. "In my defence, I really was as much of a bastard as you make me out to be back then," he mutters. "And quit usin' metaphors that make so much sense to me. That's also manipulation." Perhaps there's even the smallest lick of amusement in his voice, because gods if it isn't nice for her to be angry at him over familiar things.
But then she's moving too quickly for even his telepathy to catch it, Jack awash in some swirling amalgamation of her emotions as she collides with him hard enough to push the air from his lungs in a huff. And he's clutching hold of her just as tightly - granted, some of that is to keep from falling over, but only some - an arm coiling around her waist and the other plunging into her windswept curls.
Opting to nose into her hair rather than letting his own words tumble out - then why did you leave, you little idiot? - it's a long few moments of warmth and relief and the sound of Flora's muffled sobs before he does speak. "You should've just come to the ship," he mumbles, smoothing his fingers down the back of her neck. "This could've been figured out days ago."
Sighing heavily - and he's still reeling from Flora's unexpectedly deep emotional welts, but that can wait - he glances up towards The Ark. "We'll meet them at the skyport?" he suggests to her. "Or do you want to go up?"
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
