JACK
"As a member of my crew, might I suggest you start with yourself?" Jack's quip was entirely on autopilot, given that the captain had just emerged from his cabin, voice muffled by the pipe between his teeth. He carried a logbook beneath his arm, written entirely in chicken scratchings and indecipherable gibberish. Any smuggler in Torchline would be able to read it at a glance, but then wasn't that the bloody point? Glancing up and gazing past both Eloise and the sailor who wanted to drown her, Jack quickly (read: magically) appraised the current situation and barked out a laugh.
"You want 'em to cross The Maw and you're surprised that their balls shrivelled up inside 'em?" Taking the pipe from his lips and exhaling a whorl of smoke, Jack gave Eloise a withering sort of look. "Why, pray tell, do you believe it's a good idea?" This should be good.
"You want 'em to cross The Maw and you're surprised that their balls shrivelled up inside 'em?" Taking the pipe from his lips and exhaling a whorl of smoke, Jack gave Eloise a withering sort of look. "Why, pray tell, do you believe it's a good idea?" This should be good.
