JACK
hellraiser
risk taker
risk taker
"I couldn't possibly say," Jack drawls, the words framed by a smirk. Her stance on things resonates through him - let them choke on it indeed - and besides which, he's much more interested in the business ears the news of their return might reach. Old rivalries and alliances he'd snapped clean on his departure, individuals cut loose who might now serve others or operate as free agents through the islands. There might yet be something to salvage here, some claim he might stake on these shores, and where the ambition in King's End felt perfunctory, like a mummer's farce of his own reputation, here it feels right.
Behind them the crew of The Ark due their shore leave are already spilling into the harbour and beyond, their voices calling greetings to those they recognise or shouting directions to a nearby tavern. Jack feels it as their minds cast free of the net of his telepathy, allowing him to refocus on the world around them and, more importantly, how the redhead at his side perceives it all.
"Yeah?" Jack smirks, following her gaze towards the oyster shucker. "Been a long time since I tasted Torchline," he agrees. Stalls elsewhere peddling the islands' fare, however good, will never beat fresh from the water.
Still, it takes them a few minutes to meander to the shucker, his pail and his modest setup of condiments. Most might have shown up to eye The Ark as a spectacle, yes, but there are a few minds that spark in Jack's magic like flint on kindling, and he pauses almost strategically as they stroll, picking up conversations as if it's been mere days rather than near enough a year. Is The Ark back for good? Is she in the harbour for long? Will there be time for a chat, a meeting, perhaps some general roughing up of some unruly sorts?
Jack has become a master of neutral expressions, but there's no denying the ease in his posture, the quiet interest in his voice, and as his arm moves back around The Ark to formally introduce her as his oldest acquaintance and most valued business partner, the gesture is casually affectionate. "Midday tomorrow at The Sand Dollar." Jack cuts the conversation short with the arranged rendezvous, and while his associates are still gawking at the siren on the Captain's arm, he finally breaks free to reach their destination.
"A dozen to split," he announces to the shucker, "unless the lady has other preferences."
Behind them the crew of The Ark due their shore leave are already spilling into the harbour and beyond, their voices calling greetings to those they recognise or shouting directions to a nearby tavern. Jack feels it as their minds cast free of the net of his telepathy, allowing him to refocus on the world around them and, more importantly, how the redhead at his side perceives it all.
"Yeah?" Jack smirks, following her gaze towards the oyster shucker. "Been a long time since I tasted Torchline," he agrees. Stalls elsewhere peddling the islands' fare, however good, will never beat fresh from the water.
Still, it takes them a few minutes to meander to the shucker, his pail and his modest setup of condiments. Most might have shown up to eye The Ark as a spectacle, yes, but there are a few minds that spark in Jack's magic like flint on kindling, and he pauses almost strategically as they stroll, picking up conversations as if it's been mere days rather than near enough a year. Is The Ark back for good? Is she in the harbour for long? Will there be time for a chat, a meeting, perhaps some general roughing up of some unruly sorts?
Jack has become a master of neutral expressions, but there's no denying the ease in his posture, the quiet interest in his voice, and as his arm moves back around The Ark to formally introduce her as his oldest acquaintance and most valued business partner, the gesture is casually affectionate. "Midday tomorrow at The Sand Dollar." Jack cuts the conversation short with the arranged rendezvous, and while his associates are still gawking at the siren on the Captain's arm, he finally breaks free to reach their destination.
"A dozen to split," he announces to the shucker, "unless the lady has other preferences."
full speed ahead
'til i'm dead in the fast lane
'til i'm dead in the fast lane
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
