call me chaos, call me divine

JACK

It is not a common thing, for someone to offer comfort to Jack Barclay, however subtle, however wrapped in protective possession, and it's rarer still for him to accept it. But standing here in the sand at the edge of the world with someone who has seen it all with him and stands here anyway, he forces down the old familiar urge to step away, to nurse his injuries - whether physical or otherwise - in secret, so no one might see where the cracks run or how deep they might be. No, instead he leans into The Ark in turn, nosing into her drying hair and inhaling the smell of salt and sea and spice that clings to her.

And nothing needs to be said in those long moments; the time simply passes in the rush of waves across their feet and the heat of the sun on their bodies, until the breath loosens in Jack's lungs and he feels himself steady again. Then she's turning to look up at him, the Captain tilting his head as he considers her questions. "Well," he says, "the truth of it is that you're The Ark and you're a ship captained by a very notorious and very dangerous man." Smirking, unable to help himself, he nevertheless continues.

"What do you want to call yourself?" he asks. "You know what I call you, an' you know what the crew call you, but who are you to you?"

fight so dirty but you love so sweet
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!