my name is stitched to your lips

i want to taste you again

Their understanding is such that Jack is able to let it sit easily between them - no second-guessing and, more importantly, nothing that might distract from the task at hand. With The Ark safely at his back and the cache hanging overhead, he commits to collecting it at last and hops nimbly from the edge of the mire to the pale boulder between the bubbling tar pits. It wobbles a bit but seems to hold beneath his boot, leaving him more or less beneath the cache, and Jack takes a moment to regain his footing when the redhead behind him speaks again.

"What would I say to that?" he ventures, his wry tone ruined by the smile she'll be able to hear, Jack glancing over his shoulder as he reaches up to start unhooking the leather bag. "A Longheat party in Torchline to celebrate your existence? Say less, love."

The bag comes free with ease, and the Captain is just about to praise a job well done when the boulder rolls beneath his boot, forcing him not only to correct his balance but to jump reflexively to the next bank, putting an unwelcome amount of swamp between he and The Ark. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath, a frown drawing his eyebrows together as the 'boulder' rolls face up, revealing the bleached and empty skull of something that had once been large and formidable.

"This place gets more an' more cheerful, doesn't it?"

like a secret or a sin

JACK