it's not your fault that you're always wrong
”A pleasure,” Jack remarked, taking another drag on his cigarette and enjoying, for a moment, the slap of the waves against the dock, the quiet rush of the ocean in the distance, the intimacy of only having one voice (and one set of thoughts) to listen to. That she hadn’t been having the best time in Torchline did come as a bit of a surprise, and the captain tilted his head at her curiously.
”You know, you’re prob’ly the first visitor here that ain’t fallen in love with the place,” he remarked. ”In fact, we seem to have adopted a lot of people from where you’re from already. What’s up - not the welcome wagon you expected?” Jack didn’t - wouldn’t - judge, given that he hadn’t yet set foot through a portal and he didn’t plan to until he could get his ship through there.
”You know, you’re prob’ly the first visitor here that ain’t fallen in love with the place,” he remarked. ”In fact, we seem to have adopted a lot of people from where you’re from already. What’s up - not the welcome wagon you expected?” Jack didn’t - wouldn’t - judge, given that he hadn’t yet set foot through a portal and he didn’t plan to until he could get his ship through there.
