[SE] walk right in the sight of a gun

JACK

Half expecting Flora to continue to walk away regardless, Jack takes the sudden bloom of her thoughts at face value - surprise doesn't mean changing her mind, after all - and it's only as he hears the soft creak of her return to the booth that he glances up, regarding her quietly behind the shade of his sunglasses. "Thanks," he says quietly, searching for something further to say that will stop the moment from slipping through his fingers like sand.

But gods, then the calm swathe of water floods through Flora's mind, washing down the ragged lines of Jack's magic and filling him with the dappled shimmer of sunlight bouncing off the shallows, of the bottomless blue of the Arclight, of sea breezes and crashing waves. The captain doesn't realise when he's relaxed his fist or when he's settled back into his seat, and when Flora's voice breaks the silence between them, he's feeling yet again more grounded.

"I remember," he says with a quiet nod. "It was the first date I agreed to take you on." Transactional, granted, but he recalls that they'd surprised each other that night in more than one way.

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

His thanks catches her just as off guard as everything else has. It loosens something knotted tight in her chest, and her thoughts soften again, flickering quieter, steadier—like light on deep water when the wind dies down.

She hums a little in agreement, sipping her smoothie as the memory folds open inside her. There was wonder, sure—the kind she’d practically screamed about at the sight of the first starwhale cresting through the clouds—but there was more than that, too. The rush of his mouth on hers afterward, his hands braced on either side of her, his smirk against her breath like it had finally sunk in that she wasn’t some girl with a crush anymore; he’d wanted her. And not just because of the things she could offer him, but because he’d wanted to.

"You look like you need a haircut," she mumbles into her straw, one brow quirking up as she lifts her eyes to meet his. It's affectionate without daring too far, a little tether back to steady footing.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky

JACK

Why? Jack almost asks; why bring it up, he means, having almost been expecting a dissection of the night and how it had somehow shown all the worst things about the two of them. A reason for the way things ending as they had, right at that first opportunity. But Flora doesn't expand on it, and the captain tentatively reaches for his coffee as she settles enough to sip at her smoothie, letting the rest of their food go cold between them without much care.

"Haven't seen any since," he says offhandedly, of the starwhales. "Not that we specifically go lookin' but... not even in passin'." Perhaps they'd come out just for Flora that night.

But then she pivots unexpectedly towards his appearance, of all things, a remark that has Jack raising an eyebrow at her over his sunglasses. Grunting his agreement and lowering his coffee cup, he rolls his shoulder in a shrug that utterly fails to be careless. "Ain't found the time to take a knife to it," he lies. He'd kept it long for the same reason he's been chain smoking and resolving most of his disputes with violence lately; a reason that sits opposite him in the booth.

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

"Mmm," Flora hums, her gaze drifting instinctively toward the bright slice of sky beyond the window, as if a glimmering tail might break through the clouds just for them again. The moment stays quiet between them—not heavy, not bitter, just...still. Like a boat rocking in a gentle tide.

At his grunted reply about the hair, her lips curl—not quite a smirk, not quite sweet. Something in between, shaded by memory and everything unspoken between them. She leans back in her seat, twisting her smoothie cup idly between her fingers before speaking. "There’s a bench just off the path we took to get here. I could cut it for you."

Then she glances at him, eyes glinting just a little brighter. "I mean, that’s if you still trust me with a blade near your throat," she teases, her grin blooming despite the lingering expectation that this show of civility between them will blow up at any moment.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky

JACK

Jack shouldn't be surprised by Flora's offer - every word between them has been leading up to it - but he still finds himself gazing, puzzled, into his half cup of coffee, as if expecting one of those infamous blades of hers to lance down and skewer the back of his hand. He takes a beat or two before giving a slow nod, itching at the scruff on his chin. "It'd be easier to get through Longheat," he admits.

Inhaling a slow breath and committing to draining the rest of his coffee cup, he snorts softly and gestures to ask whether she plans on eating her breakfast or if she wants to cut straight to threatening him with a knife. "I trust you 'bout as much as I always did to have a blade near my throat," he quips back with a half smile curling across his lips. And she can take that as a compliment however she decides to interpret it.

"Ready when you are."

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

Flora gives a faint shake of her head, her voice quiet as she mumbles, "I wasn’t really hungry anyway." She doesn’t elaborate, not when Jack had already heard her thoughts and likely knows that she only came with him to the little cafe because he'd asked her to.

But his quip makes her snort softly, her grin brightening in the way that only his brand of sarcasm could still manage. "High praise," she murmurs, fond despite herself. Sliding out of the booth for the second time, this time she waits, pausing just long enough let him fall into step beside her. The air outside is heavy and already baking, the kind of heat that slicks the back of her neck and makes the knotted tank-top she's wearing feel like something much more befitting Halo.

The bench is just ahead, tucked beneath the fringes of a palm’s shade. "Sit," she instructs, all breezy authority. Once he does, she steps behind him and reaches for the messy knot of hair he’d twisted earlier. Her fingers are gentle as they work it loose, carefully teasing apart the tangles, her nails skimming lightly over his scalp as she uses them to comb through the sun-warmed strands.

There's a knife in his boot that she'll ask for in a moment, her own are coated in poison and will definitely give him split ends. But before she does, her fingers still against his scalp before sliding down to his shoulders. "I'm going to tell you something, and you probably aren't going to like it," she says in a low voice, one of her fingers twisting errantly around one long section of his hair. "But I need you to sit here and act like nothing's wrong so that anyone watching doesn't think anything of it."

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky

JACK

"Well, I'm sure the hels and cloud wyrms will enjoy your toast," Jack drawls, snagging a final piece of bacon and a square of mango before he rises to his feet to join her - because he, on the other hand, had been ravenous. And it says everything that he's opting to follow Flora out into the searing sunlight rather than remaining in the shade to do arguably what's best for him.

Sinking down onto the bench and shrugging carelessly out of his shirt, he sets it and his sunglasses down beside him, tired eyes closing instantly at the harsh morning light. His hand finds the knife in his boot without needing to look at it, offering it up for Flora to take before he settles once more into the sound of the surf and the soft babble of nearby thought, focusing mainly on the Doubletake.

Her hands on him are familiar enough that he almost, almost resents it, but in the end Jack succumbs to the gentle, easy touch of her fingers. His hair is still a little damp from earlier, sun bleached at the tips and longer than he'd have ever reasonably let it get, but Flora is able to tame it as easily as she always has. At the sound of her voice and the weight of her palms on his shoulders, Jack cracks one eye open briefly, before closing it again.

"The suspense is killin' me," he rumbles, riding the words out on a sigh. You probably aren't going to like it is almost the story of his life lately. "Alright. Hit me."

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

Flora accepts the offered knife without a hitch, sliding it carefully, hilt-down, into the waistband at the small of her back. Her fingers return to Jack’s hair, sectioning it slowly and rhythmically. Each scratch of her nails along his scalp is gentle, like she’s trying to smooth away the storms she knows still darken the edges of his mind. Maybe she is, even knowing that what she’s about to say will do little to keep the clouds at bay.

But that’s the whole point, isn't it? Jack had let her know in no uncertain terms that keeping him in the dark hurt far worse than any storm she might have otherwise brought, and so whether or not there might be a better time or place for this conversation, Flora errs on the side of not making the same mistake twice.

When she finally slips the blade free again, it’s with quiet precision, feathering off the sun-bleached ends of his hair with slow, measured movements. She clears her throat lightly, though her lips come back together, this evidently being a one-way conversation for anyone watching the pair.

I’m going to get more blood from the Family, she thinks. For Torchline. And I’m going to do it at Pierce’s pool party. Flora's thoughts ripple quietly beneath her words, like sunlight scattering on restless water—bright on the surface, shadowed underneath—even as her hands keep moving, steadily trimming away Jack's split ends.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky

JACK

To Jack's credit, he does as he's asked when Flora's words slip against the tide of his magic like an oar through still water - and it's not just because any sudden movements might have her skewering him with his own dagger. A muscle feathers in his jaw, just slightly, but his eyes remain closed and his hands in his lap, toying absently with one of the mageglass rings that will do precisely nothing against Pierce should he decide to use his own abilities.

"I see," he says softly, almost under his breath; the path they sit beside is fairly empty anyway, and he can't sense anyone listening in, but he keeps his words quiet nevertheless. "Tell me everything." How she plans to do it - how she plans to avoid the obvious repercussions, too - and if she has any help. "Includin' if there's somethin' you need from me."

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

Flora takes a slow, steady breath, surprised when the hair beneath her fingers doesn’t frost over, when Jack doesn’t stiffen or pull away. Instead, his calm feels like permission, and her mind responds in kind, blooming open with hesitant clarity. She doesn’t speak aloud, but the thoughts come easily now, woven in imagery and memory, laced with the sort of trust that had once been second nature between them.

She shows him Zavien, their spar up on the Righteous Road. The laughter that dulled to strategy. The bruises that bloomed like small, earned victories. How the plan had started as a fantasy—her knuckles cracking against Pierce’s jaw just once, as a fuck you for having killed her. She lets him see how Zavien hadn’t laughed it off or brushed her aside. How he’d said he’d help; that he’d get people to safety if it all went wrong. How they'd even made up little hand signals.

She shifts to Hadama then—tells him, in that unspoken way of shared memory, how she’d mentioned the idea of stabbing Pierce in passing. How the Tidebreaker had taken it seriously. How he’d given her one of his rings, quiet and solemn, to help her accuracy, and if Jack looked, he'd notice a chunky ring on her thumb that was far from her usual style.

Then: the image of her writing to Deimos. Asking for his wraps to help bolster her odds.

Flora finishes the first section of Jack’s hair and shifts slightly, moving to the side. Her fingers sweep through the next length of sun-bleached waves, combing out the knots with more care than she probably needs. She doesn’t pause, not now, not with her thoughts beginning to fall into alignment like stars.

I'll wear a surong around my waist to hide my daggers. If I can hit him, she thinks, her fingers trailing through another lock of hair before she cuts, I can recall it. And if I can recall it, I can compass away with the blood. Not just for Torchline, maybe—if there’s enough.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky

JACK

There's no ice, no static, but if Flora notices she'll realise that the air around them has grown utterly, utterly still; the sort of quiet of a becalmed ocean or a held breath. Jack sits, quiet and calm as she unfurls her memories for him, the captain accepting each one, organising it, adding it to the growing patchwork of knowledge he has about her plan. Zavien. Hadama. Skill and luck. He straightens a fraction as she moves from one section of his hair to the next, and though the stillness of the air makes the sun all that hotter, he doesn't seem to notice.

"And if you can't?" he asks. There's no doubt in his voice, only the clarity of contingency, the need for plans B, C and D if "A" doesn't pan out as intended. "If he isn't there alone?" With Pierce comes Vox at the very least, and if they're particularly unlucky, the rest of The Family as well. "Who else knows?" The big players, he thinks, ought to be aware of the plan even if they don't like it; the Remis and Ronins and Sunjatas of the world.

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

Flora finishes the last snip at the back of Jack’s neck, her fingers lingering for a moment to brush away loose strands before stepping around the bench. The sunlight catches on the edge of the knife as she tucks it neatly onto the seat beside him, unused to seeing him so still without a storm coiled in the air around them. It makes her uneasy, even as it steadies her.

But then she's looking down at him—no sunglasses, no shirt, no shields—and her breath catches softly in her throat. It’s not the surprise of him, not after all this time, but the way her body still responds like he’s something she hasn’t already lost. Familiarity cuts close, and she's forced to blink against the startling blue of his eyes.

Stepping into the space between his knees, Flora lifts her hands again, combing the front sections of his hair forward with quiet precision. Her fingers are cool from the knife’s hilt, from nerves she doesn’t show. "I’m going to go see my dads," she says aloud for the benefit of anyone passing by, eyes on the sweep of pale strands in her fingers. Mateo has moved to Haulani for the time being, so I'm going to tell them they can fight again, if they want to. So long as they promise to bring me back if Dahlia rips me apart.

She doesn’t say when the Reaper rips her apart, but the word lingers just beneath the surface.

As for contingency plans, her shoulders lift in a small, helpless shrug. We have to try something, her thoughts whisper against his, soft but unflinching. I feel like this will be one of our last real chances. They won’t keep letting us push deeper into Starfall without hitting back harder. If there’s a chance to strike while they’re relaxed—laughing, celebrating—then I want to take it. She'd have invisibility and hopefully surprise on her side, after all.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky

JACK

Jack spreads his knees automatically for Flora to stand between them. He looks far-away - at least to those who don't know him as well as the Doubletake - the captain evidently weaving the strands of her plan through his own mind, examining it for gaps and weak points and finding far, far too many of them for comfort. He doesn't say that, though, merely glancing up at her as her fingers tease through the longer sections of his hair.

"What if she takes your body away, somewhere they can't get you back in time?" he asks, sounding quietly reasonable in the dead air between them. "They ain't stupid, they know how we work. They won't keep takin' chances just 'cause they find us mildly entertainin'. We're reachin' the point of no return here."

But Flora already knows that, a fact Jack is intimately aware of, especially as her next words filter through his magic and into his head. "And it has to be you?" He raises his eyebrows. "It can't be someone else?" Deimos, Sunjata, any other demigod on offer? The fact that Hadama - skilled, immortal, Safrin's favoured, hyper effective against the void - had sent Flora on her way with a pat on the butt and a flimsy ring is something that catches in his throat; something he doesn't hide in his expression either.

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Flora

A quiet breath slips past her lips, more exhale than sigh, as Jack’s questions settle like stones in her chest. Of course she’s thought about it—about what Dahlia might do, about how permanent her death could be if her body was taken somewhere the people who love her couldn’t reach and how painful it might be in interum anyway. She presses her thumb gently to Jack’s temple, perhaps accidentally, as she finishes aligning the last section of his hair.

"I know," she murmurs aloud, solemn as the tide. "It’s a risk." There’s no bravado in her voice now, no thinking she was being extremely clever; just the quiet certainty of someone who has already been considering her own worst-case scenarios. But if there’s a way to bring me back, I think they’ll find it. I think between Remi and Ronin...and Sunjata and Hadama too, there aren't many places Dahlia could hide me that they couldn't reach.

His next question slices sharper, with Flora stilling as she meets his gaze, finding it nearly impossible to hold. I think it does, she thinks quietly, thoughts like the shadow of a wave pulling back from shore. I'm the most dispensable when you think about it. Deimos has a son. Sunjata is the only leader of King's End, Hadama is strongest against the void...besides, I’m already a target. If this puts me in their crosshairs again, it doesn’t change much.

She swallows. Her fingers comb once more through the hair at his temples, light and steady, letting him feel the weight of what she isn’t saying aloud. Besides, they all rely on their magic. Jack, who'd felt what it was like to have Pierce render him utterly powerless, would understand why she was in a better position with her daggers than they were with just their fists.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'

Code stolen from Queen Sky