[SE] you'll never know it's coming

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

"A good start would be by askin' what I mean when I say I won't stop fightin', so I can tell you exactly what I plan to fuckin' do?" Jack points out. "An' if you'll remember, I did object to you goin' to Dahlia to make any sort of weird deal, but I wouldn't stop you from sittin' out of danger." There are degrees of fighting and not-fighting, evidently.

As for her very good points, Jack concedes with a reluctant nod of his head. "In my defence, I really was as much of a bastard as you make me out to be back then," he mutters. "And quit usin' metaphors that make so much sense to me. That's also manipulation." Perhaps there's even the smallest lick of amusement in his voice, because gods if it isn't nice for her to be angry at him over familiar things.

But then she's moving too quickly for even his telepathy to catch it, Jack awash in some swirling amalgamation of her emotions as she collides with him hard enough to push the air from his lungs in a huff. And he's clutching hold of her just as tightly - granted, some of that is to keep from falling over, but only some - an arm coiling around her waist and the other plunging into her windswept curls.

Opting to nose into her hair rather than letting his own words tumble out - then why did you leave, you little idiot? - it's a long few moments of warmth and relief and the sound of Flora's muffled sobs before he does speak. "You should've just come to the ship," he mumbles, smoothing his fingers down the back of her neck. "This could've been figured out days ago."

Sighing heavily - and he's still reeling from Flora's unexpectedly deep emotional welts, but that can wait - he glances up towards The Ark. "We'll meet them at the skyport?" he suggests to her. "Or do you want to go up?"

you look like my next mistake

Flora exhales against Jack’s shoulder, her tears drying up as fast as they’d come now that she’s safely wrapped up in his arms. "I know," she murmurs, voice small but steady as her fingers finally loosen from his coat, smoothing over the fabric instead of clinging. "I wanted you to miss me," she confesses, knowing that he's likely already felt the ache of it still lingering in her chest, soft and bruised, the childish need to be wanted, to be chased, to be important enough to reach for, despite knowing that such tactics were wildly unlikely to work on a man like Jack.

Her fingers twitch against his waist, her heart still stumbling over itself in the wake of everything, of him saying it first, without her having to drag it out of him. And just like that, everything else—the fight, the anger, the days apart—feels so distant, so unimportant. Because this is what she needed all along. "I want to marry you, by the way. Not break up." Flora pulls back just enough to tilt her head up at him, sighing exaggeratedly as if he was the dramatic idiot here and not her.

Standing on her toes, the queen lifts herself up a few inches to better peer up at Jack through her damp lashes. "I’m sorry," she murmurs, voice softer now. "For what I said. That you don’t know how to love someone." Her brows knit together slightly, guilt creeping in, because she's aware of what a rare thing it is for him to admit something actually hurt him, and she’d gone and done exactly that. "I didn’t mean it."

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

"I already missed you after you stormed off down the beach. This was excessive," Jack quips, not needing to glance down at Flora to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks, even as it appears that she's stopped sobbing into his coat. "Especially since you seem to have driven yourself crazy, rather than me." In a game of spite, they are both seasoned players - and now look at them.

Raising his eyebrows properly to hear her say it so plainly, that she wants to marry him, Jack does manage to stop from blurting out whatever for?, but only just. "If this is your attempt at a proposal, absolutely not. I expect to be wined and dined before you go askin' a question like that," he drawls instead. "We'll talk about it later," he adds, in case she assumes he's brushing the topic off for good.

Stepping back slightly to let her lean up towards him, the Doubletake ends up comfortably draped against his chest, Jack's arms more loosely clasped around her. His eyebrows flinch together ever so slightly at the reminder of the hurt still rubbed raw within him, however much of an unexpected balm her apology presents, and he clears his throat a little. "It's alright. Apology accepted," he mutters, closing the distance between them at last to steal a slow kiss from her lips.

you look like my next mistake

Flora practically beams at his admission such that her mind lights up like the sun breaking through storm clouds. "You did?" she wonders, the words filled with so much delight it borders on saccharine, even as she tilts her face up to him with something far softer behind her eyes. Okay, so maybe it wasn't worth all of this just to hear him say that he'd missed her, but gods, does it feel good.

As for the marriage thing, she chuckles quietly, shaking her head as she smooths her fingers along the lapels of his coat. "Oh, this isn't me proposing," she confirms, a playful smirk curling at the edges of her lips. "Obviously I want you to want to marry me too." It's something he might have plucked from her thoughts, but it seems worth saying out loud just the same. "I just figured I’d put it out there now so the next time you get some stupid idea in your head about getting me a present, you steer clear of wedding-coded ones unless you want to end up at the end of an aisle."

And then he's kissing her, and gods, she wants to hold onto the thoughts still buzzing in her mind, still half-formed on her tongue—the rest of her apology, the words she still wants to say—but it's been over a week since she's seen him, and the feel of his lips against hers is more than welcome. She melts into it, her hands tightening against his coat, fingers curling into the fabric as she presses further up onto the balls of her feet to better meet him. The fight, the frustration, the days apart—all of it fades beneath the warmth of his mouth on hers, replaced by something heady and desperate, something that has her sighing softly into the kiss, drinking him in like she’s been starved for it. (Because, well, she has, and don't we all get a little hangry when we're that hungry for something?)

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

"Course I did," Jack says, his tone softly incredulous, and perhaps somewhere in his mind he's finally beginning to connect the dots about Flora's need for actual and verbal reassurance. Still, there's apparently nothing that can't be resolved with enough kissing, and whether or not it's actually true, he's content to give the Doubletake all of what she's craving and then some. Clasping her against him so it won't matter whether or not she overbalances on her toes, he kisses her until the breath is screaming in his lungs, and even then it's a difficult thing to catch it when he's flooded by the broken dam of her thoughts.

"Noted," he says, of his wedding-coded gifts, though even without her saying so, Jack absolutely won't be doing that again. "Marriage ain't anythin' I ever considered or gave any credit to," he tells her, frank as ever. "So it ain't about want, necessarily. I'll leave it to you to sell me on the idea. I expect a presentation on it, and a full pitch."

Not now, though. Now there's the rope dangling behind him and The Ark hovering overhead awaiting instruction. "A'right. You and I are goin' for a stroll in these woods, and we'll meet the crew at the skyport," he decides. "Work for you?"

you look like my next mistake

Flora rolls her eyes, though the effect is somewhat undermined by the soft flush still warming her cheeks. "Gods, you act like I can just magically pluck things from your head like you can with mine," she grumbles, smoothing her hands down the front of his coat before letting them fall away. And honestly? Would it make things easier if she could? Or would they just spend even more time locked in some spiraling mental war where she accused him of things he hadn’t even thought yet? No one could possibly know, and frankly, it was probably better they never found out.

She tilts her head, watching him with an amused smirk as he lays out his conditions for this so-called marriage pitch, and though she’s tempted to huff about the ridiculousness of it, her expression softens as she hums thoughtfully instead. "Okay, okay," she muses, tapping a thoughtful finger against her lips as if already running through a mental outline for this grand proposal presentation. "Well, as a preview, one of the major benefits of marrying me is that because you'll promise to be with me forever," she purrs, smirk widening as she rocks back onto her heels again. "I can stop acting like a crazy person every time I think you want to break up with me."

But, for now, she lets it drop, sighing dramatically and shifting her focus to the waiting rope. "Mm, that's the option I wanted anyway." Fitting herself against his side and opting to tuck her arm around his waist inside of his jacket so as to remain as close to him as possible, the queen glances up at him with a grin. It was his fault she'd been too distracted to answer, after all.

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

"And you act like after all this time, it's still not a given that I'd miss you when you're gone," Jack fires back with a raise of his eyebrows, though he supposes he can concede that he's not nearly as forthcoming with his affections as he might be. Still, at least it seems like they've almost entirely smoothed out that prickliness between them, and the captain gazes skywards for a moment to let out a long, shrill whistle - one that means sail on, evidently, because a second later, the rope begins to wind back up towards the deck.

"Let's not say anything ridiculous, now," he retorts, smirking back towards Flora. "We both know you're gonna act like a crazy person about somethin' I've said or done, whether or not there's a ring on your finger." Not about him apparently breaking up with her though, so there's that.

With The Ark beginning to gain altitude and spread her sails, Jack watches his ship only for a few moments before dropping his gaze to the thickets of woodland that taper off into the shoreline they stand upon. His arm fits easily around Flora's shoulders as they walk, and he nods towards a trail that seems reasonably well-worn. "This where you came out?" he asks.

you look like my next mistake

"Uhm, definitely not." Flora counters with a raise of her brows. "Have you even met you? Nothing is a given." But also, as Jack was beginning to understand more and more, Flora's love language was all of them, but especially words of affirmation.

Flora scoffs, the sound playfully indignant as she tilts her chin up at him, but there’s no real heat behind it (her stores of anger were more or less empty, thankfully). "At least things will always be interesting," she hums, though there is still an apologetic sheen coating her thoughts, because as Jack had pointed out a few times during their argument, Flora had gotten a few details about their fight wrong.

At his question, she follows his gaze along the path, nodding absently. "Err, more or less," she murmurs, voice quieter now, her usual theatrics slipping into something softer as something like guilt casts a shadow over her thoughts. "I was looking for this tree that Enzo and I carved our initials into when we were younger and I ran into Koa."

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

"At least things'll always be interestin'," Jack parrots back at her with a crooked smile - nothing is a given combined with acting like a crazy person is going to guarantee that boredom isn't something they'll suffer from any time soon. Naturally the captain's eyes flick back to watch his ship depart once or twice, and only once she's well out of sight does he lend his full attention to the estuary and the trek ahead.

"Did you find the tree?" he wonders, fingers idly teasing through a lock of her hair as if to make sure they have something to do, Jack keenly peering at the trail that snakes off into the undergrowth. Mention of Koa has him raising an eyebrow - or more specifically, the oily shine of guilt that goes along with his name does. "Oh? And how is Stormbreak's most upstandin' Dragoon?" he drawls, holding up an overhanging branch for Flora to step through into the twilight of interlocking trees.

you look like my next mistake

As they walk Flora lets herself enjoy the way Jack's fingers idly weave through her curls, the absentminded affection grounding her in a way she hadn’t even realized she needed. She really should have just gone back to The Ark rather than taking off for the Grounds.

"Yeah," she says softly, nodding as she steps under the branch he holds for her. "It was still there. Worn down a little, but… still there." There’s something unshakably bittersweet about that, the way the past still lingers even when everything else has changed.

Still, Koa remains an uncomfortable knot in her chest, one she can’t quite untangle. She exhales sharply, shaking her head as Jack’s sarcasm cuts through the fog of her thoughts. If he wasn't a telepath she'd not blame him for being suspicious, but despite the reedy guilt rising in her thoughts like a low-hanging mist, it wasn't as though anything had actually happened. Just...happening to run into an ex while you were fighting with your bf was the sort of thing that seemed suspicious. "About as good as everyone else is. " She answers vaguely because the thread just started. "He—"

Flora stills, drawing up short, her hand tightening instinctively around Jack's waist.

There’s something ahead of them.

At first, it’s just a flicker of light, barely visible between the dark weave of branches. Then another. And another. Small, glimmering orbs of pale violet and inky black, drifting lazily through the trees like stray embers from some unseen fire.

Whispering.

The sound is faint, almost melodic, curling at the edges of her mind like the rustling of leaves. But there’s something wrong about it. Something that sets her pulse thrumming beneath her skin.

Please tell me you hear that too?

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

"Maybe you can make a habit of visitin' it," he suggests. "Or give it a little refresher, so it doesn't wear away more." Sentimentality isn't high on Jack's list of priorities, but he knows how it works, and even if freshening up the names on the tree erases some of Enzo's handiwork, it's better than it disappearing entirely, he imagines.

"It wasn't sarcasm," he quips about Koa, failing to hide his smile and knowing her truth ring will flare to life on her finger at his remark. "Still, that's good enough, all things considered..." Trailing off as he steps up to join Flora, Jack notices the eerie motes of light ahead of them, the captain falling abruptly silent and quelling the static that wants to jump to life in his hands by clenching them.

Nodding once to confirm to Flora that he also hears the disembodied whispers, the curl of distate on Jack's face is enough to gather that the creatures are void-related, if the colours didn't give them away. "It's nothin' human," he tells her almost under his breath. "Ignore 'em. Where they're goin' ain't anywhere good."

you look like my next mistake

The heat she feels on her finger is enough to have the queen pushing a finger against Jack's hip even as she rolls her eyes, before the appearance of the will-o-voids ahead has her holding her breath and reaching her free hand for one of her daggers.

"Enzo and I used to follow them when we were kids," she murmurs under her breath, nudging Jack silently with her hip to edge them off the path. "The real ones, anyway. We used to use them as an excuse for when we came home late." Vai never bought it of course, but at the time, we felt like we were being so cunning." Huffing a small laugh, Flora tries to lead them around where the will-o-voids are congregating, without much success. Every step has the purple orbs pivoting as well in order to remain directly in front of the pair.

"Things are...definitely weird, here. I met Sohalia for a drink down by the river and Vox showed up." Glancing at Jack over one shoulder and lifting her brows, she lets her mind formulate an image of them just turning around and going back the way they'd come.

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

Giving little more than a knowing smirk to feel Flora's fingers pulse against him, Jack takes her lead and heads off the beaten path away from the will-o-voids bobbing and weaving (and presumably conniving) ahead of them. "Fuck are they?" he hisses under his breath; the captain, of course, is not from the land of whimsical lights and sentient forests, and these look like the firebugs in the Oerwoud but... more than.

Scowling as their attempts to avoid the persistent purple lights come to nothing, he's about to send them straight to oblivion with a crackle of lightning when Flora mentions Vox and, even without her mental imagery, he's turning to walk them directly back through the woods to the estuary. "You might've mentioned that a bit earlier," he hisses. "Are you alright?"

you look like my next mistake

"Well, the normal ones are just will-o-wisps," Flora murmurs at Jack's side. "They're about as dangerous as anything else in the Greatwood is." Which of course meant they could be extremely dangerous if you weren't paying attention, though will-o-wisps were more likely to lead you into the river where you were liable to drown yourself than to be actively hostile. "Those, though..." Void-touched as they were, quite what sorts of tricks they had at their disposal Flora couldn't even guess at.

"Oh?" Fluttering her lashes up at him as they turn around, the queen chuckles under her breath. "Sorry, I forgot to mention it sooner, what with us almost breaking up and all." Rolling her eyes affectionately and tucking herself even more tightly against his side, Flora fights the urge to glance over her shoulder to see if they're still being followed.

"Yeah I'm fine, we were talking about the fact that he wanted us to write a poem about him and as soon as I made one up he just...was there." There's no need to elaborate on the shards of ice that had skewered through the queen at the time, because she felt fragments of them now just thinking about it. Vox was perhaps the least scary of all the members of the Family, but having been murdered by one not so terribly far away from where she'd encountered him, the similarities were far too large to be ignored.