JACK
A sharp whistle cuts through the air, slicing the peace of the evening briefly in twain; across the dock, a man Flora will recognise as one of the less important members of Jack's crew halts in his footsteps and turns back towards the dark hull of The Ark. She sits in her mooring like a sleeping beast, ruddy sails down, figures moving swiftly and silently on her deck. And her captain is just hopping down from her gangplank, a pouch of something in hand which he tosses to the crewman.
He catches it and raises a hand in a wave of understanding, then sets off again at a faster pace, stirring the air around Flora as he breezes by (not that he has any idea she's there). As for Jack, he lingers on the boardwalk, a hand tucked in one pocket, a sprig of peppermint bark between his lips. The Ark has only recently come back down from the safety of the skyline, surveying Haulani and the port before deciding it's safe enough to land.
It means he hasn't had time to take in the very noticeable sails of The Sugar Tide until now, and his blue eyes linger on them for a beat or two before he turns away once more - then pauses. Parsing through the noise of the crew in range, as well as the others milling along the docks, a very familiar string of thought fizzes along his magic like a ribbon of colour.
Smirking, ever so slightly, and gazing at the empty air that is anything but, he offers a subtle nod Flora's way. He doesn't want to blow her cover, of course, but it's nice to know she's still taking advantage of the ring he'd reminded her she possessed.
He catches it and raises a hand in a wave of understanding, then sets off again at a faster pace, stirring the air around Flora as he breezes by (not that he has any idea she's there). As for Jack, he lingers on the boardwalk, a hand tucked in one pocket, a sprig of peppermint bark between his lips. The Ark has only recently come back down from the safety of the skyline, surveying Haulani and the port before deciding it's safe enough to land.
It means he hasn't had time to take in the very noticeable sails of The Sugar Tide until now, and his blue eyes linger on them for a beat or two before he turns away once more - then pauses. Parsing through the noise of the crew in range, as well as the others milling along the docks, a very familiar string of thought fizzes along his magic like a ribbon of colour.
Smirking, ever so slightly, and gazing at the empty air that is anything but, he offers a subtle nod Flora's way. He doesn't want to blow her cover, of course, but it's nice to know she's still taking advantage of the ring he'd reminded her she possessed.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended
and recommended
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
