i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
If The Ark spends more of the voyage south on deck than she normally would, no one comments on it. She braces herself beneath the rigging and pours steady currents of air into her own sails, keeping the canvas full even when the natural wind falters, until the miles stream away beneath her keel and the water begins to turn turquoise again. There is no need to explain the haste when Jack’s fever has settled into him like cargo they haven’t been able to throw overboard, and Torchline’s healing waters have been waiting at the end of their course. Her crew knows their ship well enough not to question why she is so eager to reach harbour.
Dressed in fitted leather pants, tall boots, and a billowing white shirt that catches the morning breeze almost as greedily as her sails, The Ark glances up at the clouds and lifts one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. "It can rain all it likes, now that we’re home." The word sends a flush of warmth through the waters of her mind, spreading swift and deep until even the fever she can feel clinging to Jack seems less threatening. Home. She casts him a sideways glance and lets her gaze travel over the pale lines of his face and the leaner shape of him beneath the Kingmaker. He has certainly looked better, but with Torchline behind him and its light catching in his eyes, he looks all the better for having finally been returned to the proper shore.
Her attention shifts to the fountain and the statue of Safrin rising from its centre, and The Ark’s mouth curves as she looks up at the goddess with the amused appraisal of one figurehead regarding another. She lowers her hand into the clear water, letting it close cool and clean around her fingers before she lifts them and flicks several bright drops in Jack’s direction. "How d’you want your medicine, Captain?" she asks, turning her smile coy as the water slips from her fingertips. "Internally, or externally?" He can drink it, naturally, or he can climb into the fountain and let the water take the rest of him.
Dressed in fitted leather pants, tall boots, and a billowing white shirt that catches the morning breeze almost as greedily as her sails, The Ark glances up at the clouds and lifts one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. "It can rain all it likes, now that we’re home." The word sends a flush of warmth through the waters of her mind, spreading swift and deep until even the fever she can feel clinging to Jack seems less threatening. Home. She casts him a sideways glance and lets her gaze travel over the pale lines of his face and the leaner shape of him beneath the Kingmaker. He has certainly looked better, but with Torchline behind him and its light catching in his eyes, he looks all the better for having finally been returned to the proper shore.
Her attention shifts to the fountain and the statue of Safrin rising from its centre, and The Ark’s mouth curves as she looks up at the goddess with the amused appraisal of one figurehead regarding another. She lowers her hand into the clear water, letting it close cool and clean around her fingers before she lifts them and flicks several bright drops in Jack’s direction. "How d’you want your medicine, Captain?" she asks, turning her smile coy as the water slips from her fingertips. "Internally, or externally?" He can drink it, naturally, or he can climb into the fountain and let the water take the rest of him.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
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.
