JACK
"Could've counter-bribed the soldiers already workin' with the undercity, got 'em to spill the details of where the problem points were. Could've sent Attuned in as rats to spy, could've channelled fuckin' Ludo before it went missin' to spook crooked sailors into thinkin' they'd sink if they didn't fall in line." Jack lists the items off like they're obvious first steps, which of course they are to a man who'd brought the undercity to heel for over a decade. "Then you send in your White Knights and Bastions to clean up."
But of course that isn't the crux of it, and when Flora finally says it - none of them were you - it doesn't feel as good as he thought it might. "So I've been told," he mutters, flicking the ash from his cigarette into a tray at the end of the table.
The Ark, though, that barb lands clean, and Jack doesn't shy away from the enjoyment of it. "On the contrary," he says, "she surprises me every day." A siren and a firecracker, for all the saltwater in her veins, and Jack truly wouldn't have it any other way.
For all that this could collapse into an argument and bruised egos and all manner of other pettiness, the conversation with the Blackfox and the rumours of the incorporeal ship do seem to have held his attention, the Captain tapping a finger along the wood grain of the table as he thinks. "Sailin' right through her," he mutters, half to himself. "Could be the same sort of magic as what's emptyin' the caches."
Sighing and sitting back, he places the cigarette between his lips. "I've gotta send out some feelers first, get the full picture." But then, yes, goes the unspoken response, it's caught his interest, and he'll work on it. "I gotta pay my respects to the Blackfox now I'm back anyway. I'll leave any findin's with her." So Flora can pick them up again, naturally.
But of course that isn't the crux of it, and when Flora finally says it - none of them were you - it doesn't feel as good as he thought it might. "So I've been told," he mutters, flicking the ash from his cigarette into a tray at the end of the table.
The Ark, though, that barb lands clean, and Jack doesn't shy away from the enjoyment of it. "On the contrary," he says, "she surprises me every day." A siren and a firecracker, for all the saltwater in her veins, and Jack truly wouldn't have it any other way.
For all that this could collapse into an argument and bruised egos and all manner of other pettiness, the conversation with the Blackfox and the rumours of the incorporeal ship do seem to have held his attention, the Captain tapping a finger along the wood grain of the table as he thinks. "Sailin' right through her," he mutters, half to himself. "Could be the same sort of magic as what's emptyin' the caches."
Sighing and sitting back, he places the cigarette between his lips. "I've gotta send out some feelers first, get the full picture." But then, yes, goes the unspoken response, it's caught his interest, and he'll work on it. "I gotta pay my respects to the Blackfox now I'm back anyway. I'll leave any findin's with her." So Flora can pick them up again, naturally.
it's not your fault that you're always wrong
the weak ones are there to justify the strong
the weak ones are there to justify the strong
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
