i'm the storm your mama warned you about

JACK

hellraiser
risk taker

The Ark cuts down through the clouds like Torchline's prodigal son, slow, unhurried, inevitable. Her rusty sails stream starlight right up until her keel kisses the waves, until skyship becomes traditional galleon, though all who know her understand that she's no less dangerous for being in the water. It's dusk, the setting sun fringing the clouds and the waves with red and gold like blood on a knife, and if Jack wished to, he knows sailing routes that would put the sunset at their backs to make them all but invisible.

Jack doesn't wish to.

There's a strange sort of effervescence among the crew that the Captain can't recall feeling in a long time; the sort of warm relief that comes from seeing familiar shorelines after a long, long journey. This is both home and it isn't - Jack isn't moving back here, at least not right this minute (you can unclench your assholes, Hot Cetchup), but there's still a sense of return that has him feeling lighter now than in recent months.

"Bring her in," he calls over his shoulder from his place at the prow, air magic carrying his voice back towards Murphy and the crew, who act immediately on the order. Jack wouldn't normally stand and sight-see when it comes to sailing them into port, but sue him - it's been a while.

full speed ahead
'til i'm dead in the fast lane