JACK
”Just our luck.” Jack sidles up beside her with folded arms, gazing down at the blueprints and up at the line of half ruined palms. ”Gardenin’ ain’t my strong suit. I’ll help out with the floor,” he decides, nodding to Zeph and the stranger and moving to grab up a crowbar. The captain is not the definition of brawn by any means, but with the right tools, destruction is sort of easy.
And he proves it, too, slipping the bar between the ruined boards and using the heel of his boot to lever it up to a point where he can pull it free. He stacks them to one side of the bar, assuming they’ll be having quite the bonfire later to celebrate. And if he snags a dough ball from Zeph on the way back, well, that’s between him and the dockhand.
Jack chooses the floor!
And he proves it, too, slipping the bar between the ruined boards and using the heel of his boot to lever it up to a point where he can pull it free. He stacks them to one side of the bar, assuming they’ll be having quite the bonfire later to celebrate. And if he snags a dough ball from Zeph on the way back, well, that’s between him and the dockhand.
Jack chooses the floor!
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
