JACK
”Ain’t ever seen no storm like The Ark’s sails,” Jack says mildly, letting the barbs of Flora’s words bounce harmlessly against the armour of his indifference. Like the bloody rise of dawn, he’s heard her compliment his ship too many times for even her pretence of ire to get a rise out of him. That still beggars the question, though - what the fuck does Flora need sails for?
The merchant stares between them, utterly dithering, until Jack raises his eyebrows as if to ask if there’s a problem despite the clear struggle of power going on between his actual customer and the captain of The Ark. ”You heard her,” he says, casual as a hand brushing dust off an old book of love stories. ”I just told you how to do it.”
And he leaves the decision, then, between Flora and the sail smith, instead reaching out to tuck an errant blonde curl behind her ears with softly calloused fingers bedecked with mageglass and silver. ”You ever hear that old proverb about absence and what it does to the heart?” he says softly, his hand dropping to rest on her cart so he might peruse what’s inside - anchor, rope, dry goods; everything necessary to settle on a small boat.
”Been thinkin’ about it lately.”
Then he steps away - because of course he does, Jack turning up his collar against a sharper breeze off the shores of the Arclight and turning to go about his business.
The merchant stares between them, utterly dithering, until Jack raises his eyebrows as if to ask if there’s a problem despite the clear struggle of power going on between his actual customer and the captain of The Ark. ”You heard her,” he says, casual as a hand brushing dust off an old book of love stories. ”I just told you how to do it.”
And he leaves the decision, then, between Flora and the sail smith, instead reaching out to tuck an errant blonde curl behind her ears with softly calloused fingers bedecked with mageglass and silver. ”You ever hear that old proverb about absence and what it does to the heart?” he says softly, his hand dropping to rest on her cart so he might peruse what’s inside - anchor, rope, dry goods; everything necessary to settle on a small boat.
”Been thinkin’ about it lately.”
Then he steps away - because of course he does, Jack turning up his collar against a sharper breeze off the shores of the Arclight and turning to go about his business.
you are a quiet god
and your hunger is cavernous
and your hunger is cavernous
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
