bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The Ark’s thanks is nothing more than the slight dip of her chin as the glass is set before her, though her fingers claim it immediately. Frost blooms beneath her touch without thought—a mannerism she'd picked up from Jack—creeping across the glass in pale veins as she turns it idly, watching the liquid shift and catch the low light like something alive.
Her mouth curves faintly as Jack explains that a storm would be met with violence. The dockside idiots had scattered like hels at a gunshot, and there's something pleasing and a bit exciting about knowing that these ones wouldn't. That these ones would bite back. At his next words, though, something sharper slips through her, a flicker of interest that pricks like salt in an open cut. Refuse her? The thought doesn’t bruise her pride so much as it itches, the urge to test it rising quick and bright before she presses it down, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place. "You keep saying things like that, Jack..." She warns lightly under her breath. While she'd learned patience alongside the Captain, there was only so much being told what she couldn't do in an evening that she could take.
The idea of anyone trying to turn her wiles back on her earns a low sound from her throat, half amusement, half something more curious, her tongue pressing briefly to the inside of her cheek as if tasting the shape of it. She leans in then, not fully, just enough to shift the air between them, her shoulder brushing his as her gaze lifts, blue and deep and pulling. "Tell me something," she murmurs, voice dropping just enough to belong to him. "Are any of them brave, or stupid enough, to try it, just to get to you?" And maybe a better question, did Jack think any of them capable enough to try and charm the sea, to get to its sailor?
Her mouth curves faintly as Jack explains that a storm would be met with violence. The dockside idiots had scattered like hels at a gunshot, and there's something pleasing and a bit exciting about knowing that these ones wouldn't. That these ones would bite back. At his next words, though, something sharper slips through her, a flicker of interest that pricks like salt in an open cut. Refuse her? The thought doesn’t bruise her pride so much as it itches, the urge to test it rising quick and bright before she presses it down, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place. "You keep saying things like that, Jack..." She warns lightly under her breath. While she'd learned patience alongside the Captain, there was only so much being told what she couldn't do in an evening that she could take.
The idea of anyone trying to turn her wiles back on her earns a low sound from her throat, half amusement, half something more curious, her tongue pressing briefly to the inside of her cheek as if tasting the shape of it. She leans in then, not fully, just enough to shift the air between them, her shoulder brushing his as her gaze lifts, blue and deep and pulling. "Tell me something," she murmurs, voice dropping just enough to belong to him. "Are any of them brave, or stupid enough, to try it, just to get to you?" And maybe a better question, did Jack think any of them capable enough to try and charm the sea, to get to its sailor?
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.
