bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
Jack’s presence at her side doesn’t change her stride, but it does change something quieter and deeper; the last restless chop of her thoughts smoothing out into something more fluid, more certain. The smile already on her lips doesn’t sharpen or soften, but the light in her eyes shifts when she glances at him, bright and reflective like sunlight skimming across open water. Her gaze drops briefly to the pouch he offers, catching the faint smear of blood across his knuckles as she reaches for it, her fingers brushing his as she takes the weight. The coins jingle softly when she gives it a small, testing bounce in her palm, her grin turning wolfish at the sound despite how little the concept of money truly anchors in her mind. "Mm," she hums, more pleased by the gesture than the contents.
At his question, though, she rolls her eyes, the motion exaggerated just enough to make her irritation clear as they continue through the thickening crowd of Kaiholo. "Are they really all so..." she starts, the word chauvinistic catching somewhere just out of reach before she exhales sharply through her nose and settles for something simpler, her tone flattening with disdain, "stupid?"
The memory of it still sits sourly against her tongue; not fear, not even true anger, but a lingering irritation that pricks at her like grit beneath skin. The men hadn't been clever, and they hadn't even been particularly dangerous. They'd just been oafs; boring and basic. The Ark tilts her head slightly toward Jack, her gaze sliding over his face with a glint that suggests she’s already decided something about it. "I do think someone should teach their ringleader to watch his mouth," she adds, almost idly, though there’s an edge beneath it that hasn’t quite dulled. As it turns out, being called things like whore, however commonplace though it might be in Torchline and for women in general when dealing with men of this particular calibre, will have the Ark envisioning shoving thin picks of ice beneath his fingernails, his eyelids, and into the head of his cock.
At his question, though, she rolls her eyes, the motion exaggerated just enough to make her irritation clear as they continue through the thickening crowd of Kaiholo. "Are they really all so..." she starts, the word chauvinistic catching somewhere just out of reach before she exhales sharply through her nose and settles for something simpler, her tone flattening with disdain, "stupid?"
The memory of it still sits sourly against her tongue; not fear, not even true anger, but a lingering irritation that pricks at her like grit beneath skin. The men hadn't been clever, and they hadn't even been particularly dangerous. They'd just been oafs; boring and basic. The Ark tilts her head slightly toward Jack, her gaze sliding over his face with a glint that suggests she’s already decided something about it. "I do think someone should teach their ringleader to watch his mouth," she adds, almost idly, though there’s an edge beneath it that hasn’t quite dulled. As it turns out, being called things like whore, however commonplace though it might be in Torchline and for women in general when dealing with men of this particular calibre, will have the Ark envisioning shoving thin picks of ice beneath his fingernails, his eyelids, and into the head of his cock.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
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.
