JACK
Huffing a humourless laugh under his breath as the cigarette finally makes it between his lips, Jack doesn't try to offer any riposte for the way Flora's thoughts twinkle with hoarfrost at the very idea of his ability being Safrin-blessed. As if the reason she's able to sail through the sky and into the path of his skyship whenever she feels the impertinent need isn't also because of that same starlit goddess. She could sleep with Safrin for those same favours, he bets, if she were so inclined.
"Never said you didn't," he mumbles, grabbing for his matchbook in his back pocket, "only that if you didn't fancy battling it out with a giant spider, you've made a tidy way out of it. Sah ain't a demigod either, after all. Neither is Deimos. Neither am I."
As for Pierce, the sudden mention of the Family member responsible for their collective deaths has the match Jack holds in his fingers suddenly nothing more than a stick encased in ice. Taking a slow breath as if to calm the furious thoughts associated with the meathead with the black sword, the captain flicks the ruined match over the side of the ship and selects another, saying nothing further on the matter.
And for a second, he waits. Waits to see if Flora will talk to him - really talk to him this time - only for those thoughts and feelings to disappear into the murk of her subconscious, and for bravado to puppet its way out of her mouth instead. "...Right," he mutters, lighting his cigarette at last, only for one of his deckhands to appear with a letter in hand.
From this morning, missed it before you left for the island, Jack is told, before the boy scurries off again. If he recognises the handwriting on the envelope - and he does - he doesn't show it, quickly opening the missive and letting his eyes skim over it. "Damn," he mutters. "Might fuckin' frame this."
"Never said you didn't," he mumbles, grabbing for his matchbook in his back pocket, "only that if you didn't fancy battling it out with a giant spider, you've made a tidy way out of it. Sah ain't a demigod either, after all. Neither is Deimos. Neither am I."
As for Pierce, the sudden mention of the Family member responsible for their collective deaths has the match Jack holds in his fingers suddenly nothing more than a stick encased in ice. Taking a slow breath as if to calm the furious thoughts associated with the meathead with the black sword, the captain flicks the ruined match over the side of the ship and selects another, saying nothing further on the matter.
And for a second, he waits. Waits to see if Flora will talk to him - really talk to him this time - only for those thoughts and feelings to disappear into the murk of her subconscious, and for bravado to puppet its way out of her mouth instead. "...Right," he mutters, lighting his cigarette at last, only for one of his deckhands to appear with a letter in hand.
From this morning, missed it before you left for the island, Jack is told, before the boy scurries off again. If he recognises the handwriting on the envelope - and he does - he doesn't show it, quickly opening the missive and letting his eyes skim over it. "Damn," he mutters. "Might fuckin' frame this."
fight so dirty but you love so sweet
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
