JACK
Flora cracks open just as Jack shuts down, and gods if that isn’t also a metaphor for the entire dazzling mess they’d been, he doesn’t know what is. ”I was mad at you ‘cause you didn’t seem to think your plan would’ve been better with my help. I was mad ‘cause you never once considered that Dahlia might ask you to spill all your secrets while you were infected - secrets that weren’t entirely yours to tell. You ever think what The Family could do with someone like me? I do. I’ve seen inside the Reaper. I think about it a lot.”
Huffing out a humourless laugh as that apology finally, finally comes, too little and too late, all the things that would have made all the difference even seconds before do little more than batter against doors that are firmly closed and locked now. ”What was it you said to me at the Greatwood?” he mutters, stepping back to the rope still pooled against her deck. ”Just ‘cause we know what we are isn’t an excuse not to do somethin’ about it. Not that it matters any more. You can keep bein’ spoiled and selfish, an’ I’ll keep bein’ an asshole.”
He leans down to tie a quick knot that will let him step into the rope to brace against it while the crew hoist him back up. ”Angle yourself inland - you can ride the tide to shore even without much wind,” he advises, setting his boot into the makeshift stirrup. Whistling sharply up to the crew and giving the rope a tug, movement from above heralds his departure in just a few more seconds.
Huffing out a humourless laugh as that apology finally, finally comes, too little and too late, all the things that would have made all the difference even seconds before do little more than batter against doors that are firmly closed and locked now. ”What was it you said to me at the Greatwood?” he mutters, stepping back to the rope still pooled against her deck. ”Just ‘cause we know what we are isn’t an excuse not to do somethin’ about it. Not that it matters any more. You can keep bein’ spoiled and selfish, an’ I’ll keep bein’ an asshole.”
He leans down to tie a quick knot that will let him step into the rope to brace against it while the crew hoist him back up. ”Angle yourself inland - you can ride the tide to shore even without much wind,” he advises, setting his boot into the makeshift stirrup. Whistling sharply up to the crew and giving the rope a tug, movement from above heralds his departure in just a few more seconds.
sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)
Code stolen from Queen Sky
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
