I've been trying out the high road, and I hate it
The Ark wrinkles her nose as if Jack 's question has tracked grit across her deck, sending him an unimpressed look over one shoulder while she keeps her arm looped around his waist, curves moulded to him with the easy inevitability of hull to keel. The red-and-white checkered halter top clings scandalously tight and low, the denim shorts barely there at all, and her hair moves like it remembers water, loose and restless and alive against her shoulders as though the air itself is a current. "I remember," she grunts, the words rolling out like something spat over the side of the ship. Her mouth quirks as she huffs, the sound sharp and amused all at once. "Not sure which was worse, the hooves, or the way the crew splintered my boards trying to clean up after them." Her fingers tighten at his hip, possessive, easy.
As they stop at the drinks stall, the world hiccups. The vendor freezes, eyes going glassy, mouth opening and closing like a fish hauled too far inland. The Ark feels it, the soft afterwash of herself leaking into the space they occupy: a whisper of salt where there should only be dust, a distant hush like surf remembered in sleep, a low, restless pull under the ribs. Her magic drags its fingers through the moment without ever announcing itself, and the man never quite recovers. By the time he thrusts the drinks into Jack’s hands, he is blushing to the roots of his hair and shaking like he’s stood too close to something vast. The Ark turns, all heat and teeth, and blows him a kiss that is unapologetically filthy. It lands like a breaking wave and the man looks like he might not survive it.
The Ark laughs, low and pleased, leaning back into Jack before raising a brow at him, eyes bright and predatory, a question already riding the curl of her smile as she leans in close enough for her words to brush against him like a warm spray. "Do you think I'd be able to ride any of the entries?"
The Ark is here tocause drama for Flora watch!
Her Siren's Wake ability is active:
Magic: Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered | Cost: Passive
As they stop at the drinks stall, the world hiccups. The vendor freezes, eyes going glassy, mouth opening and closing like a fish hauled too far inland. The Ark feels it, the soft afterwash of herself leaking into the space they occupy: a whisper of salt where there should only be dust, a distant hush like surf remembered in sleep, a low, restless pull under the ribs. Her magic drags its fingers through the moment without ever announcing itself, and the man never quite recovers. By the time he thrusts the drinks into Jack’s hands, he is blushing to the roots of his hair and shaking like he’s stood too close to something vast. The Ark turns, all heat and teeth, and blows him a kiss that is unapologetically filthy. It lands like a breaking wave and the man looks like he might not survive it.
The Ark laughs, low and pleased, leaning back into Jack before raising a brow at him, eyes bright and predatory, a question already riding the curl of her smile as she leans in close enough for her words to brush against him like a warm spray. "Do you think I'd be able to ride any of the entries?"
The Ark is here to
Her Siren's Wake ability is active:
Magic: Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered | Cost: Passive
I've got a lot of sins, but you're my favourite
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
