JACK
The question is surprising not because of its contents, Jack will realise later, but because of the gentle honesty in her tone, the sort of vulnerability that the world will grind its heel into given half a chance. It makes the Captain's fingers flex a little tighter around her waist, a combination of affection and something murderiously overprotective crackling through him like an electric current. "I ain't great at it myself," he tells her quietly. "But I'll do the best I can."
Nodding almost stiffly, then, to hear that she isn't hungry at least, once they pass properly into the cabin, Jack twists the key in the lock like it's the last step in a ritual that will finally allow him to relax. Not that a door will do much against enough violent intent, but the barrier has proved multiple times to be enough to give him a chance to get prepared.
"The trees threw me off as well," he admits readily, frowning through his cabin window out into the black. "Dunno if you remember the first time we landed in the Observatory skyport, but I ain't been that nervous since we took on our first storm that one Flowerbirth." Back when monsoons had been a real fucking problem for Torchline, back when Jack had learned to sail far out from the islands during that season to find calmer waters.
As he straightens and turns it's to see her awkwardly tugging at her excuse for clothing, and the Captain is caught - a rarity, yes - entirely on the back foot. "Are you..." He shakes it off as his magic fills in the blanks; habit rather than desire, he realises, and he finds himself smirking. "Maybe we can get you a few more things to wear tomorrow, too," he suggests, crossing the room so his clever fingers can take over to loosen the knots holding the canvas and net in place. "Bodies get too hot but they also get too cold." Not in this season certainly, but soon enough.
Nodding almost stiffly, then, to hear that she isn't hungry at least, once they pass properly into the cabin, Jack twists the key in the lock like it's the last step in a ritual that will finally allow him to relax. Not that a door will do much against enough violent intent, but the barrier has proved multiple times to be enough to give him a chance to get prepared.
"The trees threw me off as well," he admits readily, frowning through his cabin window out into the black. "Dunno if you remember the first time we landed in the Observatory skyport, but I ain't been that nervous since we took on our first storm that one Flowerbirth." Back when monsoons had been a real fucking problem for Torchline, back when Jack had learned to sail far out from the islands during that season to find calmer waters.
As he straightens and turns it's to see her awkwardly tugging at her excuse for clothing, and the Captain is caught - a rarity, yes - entirely on the back foot. "Are you..." He shakes it off as his magic fills in the blanks; habit rather than desire, he realises, and he finds himself smirking. "Maybe we can get you a few more things to wear tomorrow, too," he suggests, crossing the room so his clever fingers can take over to loosen the knots holding the canvas and net in place. "Bodies get too hot but they also get too cold." Not in this season certainly, but soon enough.
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!
