choking on the things I won't say

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

How am I not governing? Jack doesn't answer - he doesn't really need to. He merely gives Sunjata the kind of up-and-down look that prods at the very state of him. Hungover, barefoot, wandering around in shorts with a smoke and the hair of the dog? Best Governor. He feels the prickles in the other man's temper as they batter against his telepathy, as the captain riles and infuriates in ways that always seem to hit at the core of the matter.

He can't help but snort at the Flood's continued remarks, though. "Of course I know things you don't," he mumbles, as if that's par for the course at this point. And he almost says it - I could tell you whether you're seeing ghosts or not - but he doesn't. That would be far too dangerous.

"I mean, you're the dragon. You tell me how it'd go," he says, spreading his hands. "I came up here because people are noticin', Sunjata. They see you. They know you're tired." Be careful - those are the words Jack won't say.

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

He thinks he looks fine enough when he’s put himself together. But here? In the comfort of his own home? He can fall apart as he wishes. And fall apart he does. But all he can do right now is peer at Jack through narrowed steel, letting those protective parts of him lash out and leave small tendrils behind as he starts to deflate, feathers flickering down his neck beneath fading bruises and covering part of his chest to fill out his tattoos. “Of course you do.” He says instead of the multitude of things he wants to say; things like, scouting the world from a ship would do it, being a native torcher would do it, basically being anything but what the Flood is would do it.

But he draws silent instead, picturing how that fight would go, knowing that it wouldn’t end up well on Jack’s end nor on his own either. And he sighs. He drags from the cigarette again, before moving away from the window to put the smoke out and gesture for Jack to follow him into the governing wing. It’s up on the second floor, the room well worked in with books scattered about the desk and notes upon notes written in his sharp, legible handwriting. “You can tell them I’m tired because I’ve been working. I can’t exactly go out there and tell them I’m tired because I’m seeing shit that isn’t there.” His gaze lifts to the captain now as he rounds to the otherside of his desk, taking a seat and pushing papers around. Diagrams of how to go about enacting the quest Safrin had put them on, books and books of monsoon history and beaches and pollination littered about.

“I don’t know what else I can do.” He offers, leaning back in his chair and peering up at Jack, wherever he’s decided to go.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

"Well no, of course you can't. That would ruin you, even if it turns out it's Ludo an' all its bullshit," Jack says, making it sound reasonable as all fuck. He rises to his feet as Sunjata heads out of the room, walking at his heels with his hands lazily resting in his pockets. Silence is something Jack uses to his advantages, making his measure of the governor as they walk, as home becomes office, as things seem a little more put together if only on the surface.

The man is a mess, he realises as they enter into the space where Sunjata takes a seat. He's a ship without an anchor, adrift in his own shit, in too deep to pull himself out. The Flood sits down and Jack perches on the edge of the desk, looking delightfully out of place in this space of quiet and study. He does examine the diagrams and the books and notes with a practiced eye, however; he's not here to analyse Sunjata's plans - he's sure they're adequate.

"What more you can do with what? The shit you're seein', or the islands?" he wonders, heaving a sigh and gazing up at the ceiling. "I lock myself up. No smokin', drinkin', fightin' or fuckin', unfortunately. Day or so, usually passes." He raises a hand in anticipation, as if to tell Sunjata that no, he will not be expanding on that.

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

It would ruin him. It’s why he says nothing, keeps to himself, closes off in some aspects that only allow the predators within him to grow more antsy, more fighty. And it’s with that he chews on the inside of his cheek once they’ve made it to the office. He sits, gaze lifting to meet Jack’s as the next words leave his lips. And they part, wanting to ask what it was Jack dealt with, but the hand cuts him off and leaves him to toss the paper back into the mix, to reach up and rub his hands along each side of his neck and through navy feathers. “The shit I’m seeing.” He decides after a moment.

“It doesn’t work.” He says at first. “It doesn’t work for me. This is all that's worked.” Until he spirals out of control and someone else puts the pieces back together. He spirals like a storm, a hurricane of sorts, hurting himself and harming whomever was stuck in his path. “It’s either work or this. Or both. That’s all I’ve got.” He says with some amount of a breathy laugh, leaning back in his chair until the wood groans, the light casting in from the window casting long shadows from his lightning scars. “So I guess I need to figure it out, huh?”

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

Jack figures as much, which is good, because it means that little peephole into his psyche hasn't been revealed for nothing. And Sunjata doesn't dig for more info, something else the captain can deeply respect about the man, and that spurs him to listen a little more, at least. "I guess you fuckin' do," he says mildly, itching at the stubble on his chin. "Tell you what, though. I'll whisper in a few ears, have a few more subtle hands at work keepin' an eye on this place until your neck biter gets back. That way, if you do see anythin', you know it's just you doin' it. An' they'll make sure no one important comes tappin' on your door. Except me, obviously."

A sly smile, at that - and of course, this all just comes at the price of another favour. Jack's certainly racking them up at this point, but it's for the greater good and all that. Sunjata falls, Torchline gets fucked. It's gotta be done. As for now, though? The smuggler snorts. "At least switch it up. Halenani is open all day and all night. Won't give you a hangover, that's for sure."

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

He supposes he does need to figure it out, not entirely sure where to start but knowing that the more Jack offers the more Sunjata has to give in. It wears on him, but at this point he can’t really say no. By the end of it, he’s sure he’ll be wrapped around Jack’s fingers with favors. But he nods, because he’s tired. Another agreement to keep in the back of his mind.

But then Jack continues on and Sunjata’s gaze snaps back to him. “No. I can’t go there.” He murmurs, thinking of the last time he’d been there and talked with Phoebe and how all of that had gone down. In short, not well, and Sunjata had made sure he’d kept a wide berth between himself and his ex-wife. “My ex-wife runs it.” He chews on the inside of his cheek again, mulling it over. “The last thing I need is to be around her while I’m like this.” Because last time he had been, mistakes were made. Nevermind the fact that Phoebe was always impeccable at getting under his skin regardless of what he’d come to speak to her about.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

At least Jack is good about it, which isn't something he would have afforded Sunjata had he been in a better state. Rather than smugness and gloating, he merently gives a quiet nod to the other man, an assurance that it will get done and the Governor will find himself unmolested for the foreseeable future, until Nate returns from wherever the fuck he's gone. Doesn't mean he won't suffer jibes from the smuggler, though, and Jack snorts - loudly - to hear that Sunjata is unable to go to the Halenani, and why.

"Your ex-wife is Phoebe Steadman?" He's grinning, a sort of childlike glee afforded only to bullies and shit-stirrers. "Governor, you really know how to cock block yourself, don't you? Looks like you'll have to seduce 'em the old fashioned way, like the peasants do." Peasants being those who can't really afford whores. "Hell, maybe goin' out on the town'll give you a pick me up. I'll be your wingman, if you like." He puts his hand to his heart, like it's a truly noble gesture.

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

His hand flexes as the realization hits Jack, an internal grimace. “It’s a long shitty story.” He offers up quietly, though there’s the edge of an amused smile that picks up the corners of his lips. “It was affectionately known as the spite wedding in the Grounds.” He can’t help but to think of how they’d married despite everyone else telling him it was a terrible idea and he could back out, but by backing out would prove she was right.

And then Nate had bit him in the Ruins. And it was all over from there.

“I need a shower before going anywhere.” He rumbles, looking back up at Jack with a raise of his brow. He didn’t particularly want to go out into the town looking the way he did. “But I guess if you don’t have anything better to do than humor me, then sure.” A deal in the works, even if it did surprise him a bit to have Jack offer it in the first place.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

"The spite wedding." Well, Jack certainly does still have a lot to learn about Sunjata and his oh so colourful past, doesn't he? The captain doesn't bother to hide the grin on his face, letting out a long, low whistle as a summary of his opinion on the matter. He does look the other man over again at the suggestion that he needs to take a shower before going out, the smuggler straightening up from the desk and spreading his hands. "If you reckon just a shower is gonna fix whatever's goin' on here, more power to you." Code for a shower won't help how shit you look, sorry.

"Actually, I've got a list as long as my arm of shit that's probably better'n hangin' around humourin' you. Truth be told it'd be quicker to fuck you myself and get on with my day, but here we are. How long d'you need?" Jack's already lifting papers and notes again, trying to work out what Sunjata is trying to make for the monsoons.

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

Spite wedding indeed. But he snorts, lightening up a little bit as he shifts in his chair, steel gaze flickering over Jack as he straightens up, focusing on the captain before him before looking back at the desk, a few design ideas he needs to talk to Jack for regardless, but it can wait. It should wait, if he wants to try and better himself at least a little bit. “Feels like it might help.” He offers quietly until Jack’s speaking again.

And then there’s a sudden stillness, a raise of his brow at the bluntness of it all. He doesn’t even know if Jack is serious or not, but Sunjata pushes himself up from the chair, moving to stand beside Jack, looking down at the papers and plans the captain filters through. “Would be quicker.” He murmurs, reaching over to snag a piece out of Jack’s hand to lay on the front, a series of groynes he has planned to install all around the beach aside from where the Ark sails in. He sets it on top of the others and taps at it with a finger. “Make it a bit awkward though, don’t you think?” He rumbles, half turning toward Jack to peer at him. “First you’re helping the governor out with no favors returned yet.” A raise of his brow again. “Then you’re fucking him.” Even once. What kind of message would that send?

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

"Suit yourself then," Jack says of the shower. His flippant remark about a tryst between captain and governor is just that, at first, and he's genuinely looking through the ideas Sunjata has mapped out when the first flare of heat presses in against his magic. He has to stop himself from doing a double take when the Flood is already on his feet, and gods but the man must be desperate to feel better if it's come to this between them.

Still, Jack plays along for a bit, if only to stifle his own amusement (and to feel out a little more about what it is Sunjata is getting at), allowing the governor to take the paper from him and set everything out. With a tongue running along his teeth, he flashes as crooked grin across at the other man. "So you've already decided I'm fuckin' you," he says. "Here I thought you'd be the one wantin' to get your dick wet."

Awkward? Jack? Please. Leaning one hand against the desk, the other comes up to grip Sunjata's jaw, giving his head a little shake as if to snap him out of this attempt at uncertainty. "Thank fuck we didn't go into town. If this is your flirtin' game, you need a wingman." So saying, he wastes no further time, and unless Sunjata resists, he'll drag him down into a kiss as rough and to the point as the captain is.

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

He takes the papers, lays them out, turns his attention to Jack at precisely the time Jack gives him that crooked grin. And for a moment Sunjata has a second of realization through his own self misery. “I haven’t decided anything yet.” He says simply, a brow raising as if to challenge it, his gaze dropping back to the papers of plans that would affect Jack and the Ark’s ability to get into port from whichever way they return to, when Jack’s already gripping his jaw and giving his head a bit of a shake.

The feathers ruffle a bit, gaze narrowing slightly. He wants to tell Jack he’s a far better flirt where it mattered, that this was something he’d hardly consider a flirtatious match up anyway, but then Jack’s pulling him down and he goes — if for nothing else but to see what it’s like, to find that it’s as expected. Rough, a hint of smoke. It reminds him of what he’s doing here, and he pulls away from Jack to shake his head, a rough laugh leaving him. He thinks of Nate, of how on earth he’d explain it, only a hangover coming to mind. And he’s always been the challenging type, and if he’s being honest he’s not entirely sure Jack’s up for it. Wouldn’t blame him either.

“Mm, well.” He swallows, pausing, shaking his head again as he glances down to the papers. It feels off to him, like something Jack might be able to get away with but Sunjata still harbors the uncertainties of whether or not it’s a good idea, if he can. “Drink?” He asks, already moving to grab a couple of glasses and some smoky whiskey, still able to taste the captain, a thought he’d never thought he’d have as he pours one for Jack and one for himself, even if the captain declines. He’d drink them both regardless.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

Sunjata isn't the only one laughing, the captain scoffing and shaking his head as the governor pulls away, slouching back into the recently vacated seat in front of the desk. "A drink?" Jack repeats, raising his eyebrows at the other man as if trying to understand his reasoning. From muddled consideration to thorny indecision, there's very little for the smuggler to go on, with telepathy or otherwise. So he accepts the drink, sipping at the whiskey and enjoying the burn of it deep in his throat, looking for all the world a governor himself as he sits before the papers and plans.

"You'd be better off with that shower," he recommends with a cheeky sort of grin, tipping the glass in the Flood's direction as if to cheers him before taking another drink. "Granted, I ain't sure the Hanged Man is gonna be any more your taste than I am. It's all Torchline."

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

Sunjata has always bounced around, if he’s being honest. He’s always gone from either slow and steady to diving right in. Part of it conditioned by being who he was, a prince of sorts left to court and take things slow, but it was something he had slowly worked on as time went on and the further he’d drifted away from those noble ties. And so he pours the drinks, steel gaze focused on Jack as he sips from the glass, Sunjata taking his down as if it were a shot — just trying to get the alcohol to slip through his system.

And at the mention of a shower, Sunjata nods, huffing a quiet sigh inwardly to himself as if to ask what he’s doing. But he pours just a fraction more into the glass, offering the makeshift cheers for the captain, and downs that too. And when he’s positively warm (it doesn’t take long now), he rounds the desk toward Jack and reaches out to pull him from the chair in front of the desk. “You’re not staying in here.” And he tugs Jack along until they’re outside of the office door and Sunjata’s a bit fuzzy with a buzz, content and loosened up, that peers back at Jack once he’s let him go to close and lock the door. Business was business after all.

Jack had made a point about the Hanged Man, what it might be like in comparison to the comfort and privacy of his home. And so, now that he’s sufficiently warmed with alcohol, Sunjata decides to say ‘fuck it’ and reaches out to grab Jack again, bending down just enough to catch the captains lips in something a bit more hasty, a bit more rushed.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end