JACK
"More'n you could ever know," Jack agrees of him rubbing off on her, the absence where he might have added love at the end of his sentence louder than the ruckus of the crew at work beyond the chartroom. And for that half a heartbeat the challenge is there on Jack's face - go on, let me have it. He's dying to hear her justifications, to see the knots she ties in logic to make herself the victim of him despite the fallout of their parting landing squarely on his shoulders.
But she turns away, her fingers brushing over the table, and comes out with it: Here are your options, Jack.
His laughter scoffs out of him before he can stop himself - proof that even a telepath can be surprised - and he stifles it with a quick raise of his hand, inviting her to go on. Please, tell me Flora, what are my options.
And perhaps the moment of amusement will explain the curious, still half-there smile on his face as she lays it all out, the reason for her stepping onto his deck with purpose, the proposal in her letters. "You didn't have to keep knowin' it," he points out. How many discussions have their been among themselves and others about Ludo and its ability to remove memories? "But you did. You even shared it with one person already. Guess I rubbed off on you as well." Ruthless, manipulative, keeping an ace in her hand regardless of the detonation if it were ever played. Even crafting a backup plan in Kai, knowingly or otherwise.
His eyes only narrow a fraction at the mention of Torchline. Not the telling everyone his nasty little secret, not the doubled retaliation from what he's sure will be several big bad demigods. But the banning him from a place he's not set foot in for almost a year, the place he'd known since before she was even a sparkle in her father's eye during a Frey-induced rut.
"A'right," he says slowly, foot moving from the table so he can rest his forearms on it instead, the picture of negotiation. "Lemme parse through this, just so I understand.
"You an' soldier boy make a bindin' agreement before Safrin not to share my secret. I make a bindin' agreement before Safrin not to retaliate against you for knowin' what I can do. If I break my side of the bargain, presumably all bets are off an' you spread the word like it's fresh gossip. But what if you break yours?"
He raises his eyebrows, because there's no deal without leverage, and whilst the Captain might know a great deal more than he should, he's truly oblivious to the amount of space he takes up rent-free in their minds (and in her house, until very recently anyway). "If you break yours," he says with an air of a proposal, taking the peppermint bark from his lips, "it's like you never existed. No one remembers you - not your beau, not your friends, your family, your companion, not even the gods if that's possible. No one except for me." His smile, as expected, is particularly unkind.
"You tell everyone everythin', and you become nothin'. Sounds fair to me. Deal?"
But she turns away, her fingers brushing over the table, and comes out with it: Here are your options, Jack.
His laughter scoffs out of him before he can stop himself - proof that even a telepath can be surprised - and he stifles it with a quick raise of his hand, inviting her to go on. Please, tell me Flora, what are my options.
And perhaps the moment of amusement will explain the curious, still half-there smile on his face as she lays it all out, the reason for her stepping onto his deck with purpose, the proposal in her letters. "You didn't have to keep knowin' it," he points out. How many discussions have their been among themselves and others about Ludo and its ability to remove memories? "But you did. You even shared it with one person already. Guess I rubbed off on you as well." Ruthless, manipulative, keeping an ace in her hand regardless of the detonation if it were ever played. Even crafting a backup plan in Kai, knowingly or otherwise.
His eyes only narrow a fraction at the mention of Torchline. Not the telling everyone his nasty little secret, not the doubled retaliation from what he's sure will be several big bad demigods. But the banning him from a place he's not set foot in for almost a year, the place he'd known since before she was even a sparkle in her father's eye during a Frey-induced rut.
"A'right," he says slowly, foot moving from the table so he can rest his forearms on it instead, the picture of negotiation. "Lemme parse through this, just so I understand.
"You an' soldier boy make a bindin' agreement before Safrin not to share my secret. I make a bindin' agreement before Safrin not to retaliate against you for knowin' what I can do. If I break my side of the bargain, presumably all bets are off an' you spread the word like it's fresh gossip. But what if you break yours?"
He raises his eyebrows, because there's no deal without leverage, and whilst the Captain might know a great deal more than he should, he's truly oblivious to the amount of space he takes up rent-free in their minds (and in her house, until very recently anyway). "If you break yours," he says with an air of a proposal, taking the peppermint bark from his lips, "it's like you never existed. No one remembers you - not your beau, not your friends, your family, your companion, not even the gods if that's possible. No one except for me." His smile, as expected, is particularly unkind.
"You tell everyone everythin', and you become nothin'. Sounds fair to me. Deal?"
we've gone way too fast for way too long
and we were never supposed to make it half this far
and we were never supposed to make it half this far
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
