JACK
"Guilty as charged for both," Jack says easily; anyone who knows him, or even knows of him, would likely agree. And her thoughts speak of her willingness to share even without the pointed look, the captain reaching down to snag the bottle of tequila for a pull from it. The grimace that curls across his lips gives him away - he's no stranger to liquor in the slightest, but he's more for rum and whiskey than this - but it's pleasant enough, and he raises the bottle in a quick thanks before he's setting it back down.
Having just straightened up with a suitable mask template in hands, the burn of the tequila and the chaos of the crew nearby is such that he doesn't realise Colt's intentions until she's already up in his business, the captain bristling automatically and casting a sharp glance over his shoulder at her. There are no what are you doings or can I help yous, because it doesn't take a genius to figure it out with or without telepathy, but there's a distinct cold feeling that isn't at all in her head as she flits around him. The ice that has begin to spider out from his feet and the frost riming his fingers is still more subtle than it could be, though, especially as she barks at him to keep still.
"A rancher and a seamstress," Jack drawls, surprised into compliance more than anything else. "Didn't realise those two professions crossed over so much." Outside of a brothel, the last person to touch him so casually was Flora, and that's a reminder that's not entirely welcome.
Having just straightened up with a suitable mask template in hands, the burn of the tequila and the chaos of the crew nearby is such that he doesn't realise Colt's intentions until she's already up in his business, the captain bristling automatically and casting a sharp glance over his shoulder at her. There are no what are you doings or can I help yous, because it doesn't take a genius to figure it out with or without telepathy, but there's a distinct cold feeling that isn't at all in her head as she flits around him. The ice that has begin to spider out from his feet and the frost riming his fingers is still more subtle than it could be, though, especially as she barks at him to keep still.
"A rancher and a seamstress," Jack drawls, surprised into compliance more than anything else. "Didn't realise those two professions crossed over so much." Outside of a brothel, the last person to touch him so casually was Flora, and that's a reminder that's not entirely welcome.
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
