if the journey of a thousand miles starts when you take the first step
Fuck you, me, and every cunt on this ship. Eloise thinks, not necessarily in Jack's direction, but loudly enough for him to hear. She too was done with this. It had been her call to slip into the stretch of current they were currently in, and though Jack hadn't argued, if a fucking ghost whale damaged his ship, she was pretty sure the last words she was ever going to hear before they were swallowed whole were going to be: some fucking navigator.
Tense and adrenaline-fueled, the illusionist dashes towards the sails barking orders at the crew as she went. "I swear I'll feed you to the fucking fish myself if any of you so much as lets a single foot of rope slip." And gods just now, small as she is, she looks like she means it.
"Y'know anything those whales dislike?" Eloise calls up to Jack, the implication, of course, being that she could make it see such a thing—if it existed—should the need arise to buy them some time.
Eloise goes to the sails.
Tense and adrenaline-fueled, the illusionist dashes towards the sails barking orders at the crew as she went. "I swear I'll feed you to the fucking fish myself if any of you so much as lets a single foot of rope slip." And gods just now, small as she is, she looks like she means it.
"Y'know anything those whales dislike?" Eloise calls up to Jack, the implication, of course, being that she could make it see such a thing—if it existed—should the need arise to buy them some time.
Eloise goes to the sails.
i'll travel for a little while, & i won't be coming back
