whatever you say
Jack Barclay
Captain of the Ark

Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#1
JACK
The words where's my skyboat seem to have been echoing through the very fibres of Jack's life since he'd accepted Maeve's offer to become part of the council. They ring incessantly, as if some being from above keeps yelling it in the General Chat channel of the site Discord (wot?)

So here Jack is at last, to shut that bitch up and satisfy his own wants at the same time. Oh and Maeve is here too. Something something doesn't trust him around her goddess? Whatever. Jack has been around long enough to know what the gods are supposed to like, so he's chosen appropriately for Safrin.

His offering, then, is a beautifully crafted hand-mirror, laced with shells and gemstones and with a glass so clear that the stars dazzle within it as they shine in through the lighthouse window. "Please don't curse me," he mutters, mostly to himself.



Paying 450MP (already subtracted) for a god quest from Saffy please!!
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret.
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
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#2
Maeve

Maeve stands to the side of him, hands clasped behind her back as she stifles a soft chuckle, "Safrin, if you'd be so kind to give us a moment of your time. We'd really appreciate it." She adds on to his own mutterings, a faint amusement coloring her tone, unable to help it with the way he seems almost nervous. Something she's not sure she's seen on the captain before.

The Nightshade stays quiet other than that first utterance, letting him do this himself for the most part, ready to jump in should he need her. She wants to get him his skyship. Truly. She does. The Nightshade has plans to make good on the things she offers. Otherwise what kind of leader would she be? Not a very good one.
Oh your mouth is poison
Your mouth is wine
The Nightshade


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#3
Safrin
Well this should certainly be interesting.

"Curse you?" Safrin's voice is full of laugher as the flames of the many candles littering her shrine flicker with amusement. "Not a good little accepted like you?" She appears then, just behind him, her lips against the shell of his ear. You might wish I had cursed you. It might be more bearable than being here. She speaks directly into his mind even as her lips move, as if whispering. Her thoughts are like being forcefully fed a galactic cacophony, of being drunk and upside down in a keg stand and finding what comes through the tube is all starlit foam and swirls of periwinkle madness. Safrin's thoughts are loud and bright and nearly as old as time.

Her mind contains nearly everything there is, every feeling, every eventuality. Can I interest you in everything, all of the time?

"Nice to finally meet you, Captain." Safrin says, loud enough for Maeve's benefit as flashes of sex and sin and death flash like gunfire in her thoughts.
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Jack Barclay
Captain of the Ark

Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 7 - Int:
SEVEN - Mythical - Sear Cat
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#4
JACK
And what do you know - the goddess fucking appears.

It's not that Jack didn't think it would actually happen - except that's exactly it, and now that she's here in the flesh (or something to that equivalent), he finds himself a stupid little speck with his hands shoved in his pockets and a dry mouth, and she's--

Well. What isn't she?

Her thoughts are like no other, and even if his instincts cower before them and try to throw up mental walls, Safrin smashes through them as if they're made of damp paper.

And the goddess fills him up, like fireworks from the cosmos, like sparks of moonlight bouncing up from the sea, and Jack is lost. It's darkness and horror and wonder and perfection, and he doesn't notice as his knees hit the ground, sailing on the prisms of her starlit existence.

He thinks he says "Nice to meet you, too," but in reality what comes out is more like, "Nizmyootoo," and he's not even fucking sorry.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret.
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
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#5
Maeve

Maeve has never known Safrin to not appear. Given the fact she doesn't know of his Abandoned status she expects nothing less here. The Queen dips her head as Safrin materializes, the flames of her candles flickering and dancing with her laughter. Maeve remains silent as formalities are exchanged, waiting to speak, but knowing better than to draw attention. She's here to help him, after all. "Thank you for seeing us, Safrin. I'm glad you're finally able to meet a member of my council." A very important member.

She's never seen him reduced to his knees or such mutterings before. Her brow lifts in surprise, but she remains quiet unless she's directly addressed or needs to step in to keep Jack from fucking this all up. So far so good.
Oh your mouth is poison
Your mouth is wine
The Nightshade


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#6
Safrin
Though Maeve might have her misgivings about the Captain's abilities not to ruin this interaction, Safrin would say it's going rather well. A mirror to view herself and her stars and her newest supplicant instantly on his knees? She'd certainly had worse.

"Oh? Is that what this is?" She asks Maeve as if doubtful that the crumpled man before her is an iMportAnT member of the council; smirking slightly she reaches down a hand to curl it into Jack's hair. Her nails scrape against his skull in complex patterns as she chuckles, including pictures of grand ships with sails full of wind in the lightning flashes of her thoughts. "Is this the one you promised a ship to? Without speaking to me first?" She wonders casually, her enigmatic stare focused on the top of Jack's head.
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Jack Barclay
Captain of the Ark

Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 7 - Int:
SEVEN - Mythical - Sear Cat
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#7
JACK
Is he the one she promised a ship to? Gods, Jack can't remember. He had silver on his tongue coming into this; grand introductions, charming the pants off goddesses and taking what he's worth with the promise of whatever Safrin wanted to extract in return. And y'know, maybe that's still how it'll go, but he's certainly not coming across very well so far. He blames the fact that her thoughts have reduced his own to seafoam and starlight, and her nails on the crown of his head feel as good as anyone else's orgasm ever has.

"I can... I have a ship." He's meant to be explaining that he's got a ship and he wants to make it fly and gods, Safrin, your tits are divine and I bet your tongue tastes like honey and rum, and who the fuck else is talking? Jack would look around but he's too busy trying to focus on not choking on his own spit.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret.
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
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#8
Maeve

Safrin sees right through her and she knows when it's best to apologize. Thankfully Jack seems too distracted to notice her flush or the way she dips her head demurely, "I'm sorry, Safrin. I should have spoken with you beforehand." The Nightshade murmurs, swallowing thickly as she dares to look up at her from beneath her lashes, "I was wrong not to do so in the first place." She's quick to amend, having already told Jack that he isn't just getting his ship without a hitch, but she will help him get it. Even if she must attone for her own mistake first.
Oh your mouth is poison
Your mouth is wine
The Nightshade


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#9
Safrin
"MMm, yes you do have a ship." Safrin agrees, sounding like she might be speaking to a small child who is babbling on about a toy they have. Her other hand slides into his hair now, directing his blue gaze up at her as if she might at any moment reassert his blubbering between her thighs given the serendipitous placement of his head just now.

"And yes, you should have." The goddess murmurs over her shoulder in Maeve's direction, even as her thoughts continue to explode galaxies into rose petals for Jack's benefit.

"But as for ships...can you safrin's head tilted back, the veins of her neck standing out like carved marble as she moans with pleasure enough to startle stars into being bring me waves black as the densest patches of sky roar and crash with victory and triumph five things hands covered in blood, so dark it appears black and feels like oil slicked between Jack's thighs that don't normally red lips parted in a scream laugh cry of please fly?"

Smiling, Safrin gives one of Jack's cheeks a sharp pat with her palm. "Are you paying attention, Jack?"
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Jack Barclay
Captain of the Ark

Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 7 - Int:
SEVEN - Mythical - Sear Cat
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#10
JACK
This is a meeting that will come back to bite him again and again and again, and y'know what, Jack's all kinds of kinky so that's just fine by him. But it does mean that Maeve will end up getting a show as well (oops, sorry). Her words are interspersed with images and feelings that are so much more interesting. Why the fuck did he want a flying ship when he could just bury his face between her thighs and hear her purr bittersweet nothings into his ear for eternity?

Humming out something that's half a hum of surprise and half a moan of something else completely, blue eyes blink open to gaze up at the goddess. Jack's nose is bleeding and he can look forward to a migraine that will floor him for days when all of this is over, but for now gods damn she's hot.

"Like this...?" he asks. And as if the gift had been perfected for Safrin and Safrin alone, Jack reaches within himself to engage his magic, and things fly. Under the persuasion of his air magic, the mirror he'd brought, as well as a few other trinkets at the shrine (a necklace, a ring, a candle and a lace handkerchief) all rise into the air.



Jack forgets Maeve is there and uses Air Manipulation to make 5 objects fly.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret.
Maeve Ansel
the Nightshade
Madame

Age: 26 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 37 - Endr: 43 - Luck: 37 - Int: 1
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#11
Maeve

It is a bit of a show. Maeve remains quiet despite the heat that rises to her cheeks watching it all unfold. Her breath catches and mentally she does her best to take in what Safrin requests of him. Them. Jack manages to get his thoughts together enough to demonstrate for Safrin. Not just Safrin, but Maeve too. Her eyes widen and she lets out a breath. Well isn't that interesting?

The Nightshade's jade gaze flicks between the man still on his knees, Safrin, and the objects flying around them. When exactly had the Captain picked up that trick? Briefly, her mind flashes back to the night of the fire. How he didn't hesitate to go inside. Was this why? If he had this ability even then it would have made sense.
Oh your mouth is poison
Your mouth is wine
The Nightshade


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#12
Safrin
Though objects rise into the air, Safrin never takes her gaze off of Jack. "But did you bring these things to me?" She wonders in a purr, sounding coy and curious as a cat might when holding a mouse by the tail. Would he be able to wriggle free? Or would he mewl and roll over dead and become a meal rather than entertainment?

Like networks of cells zoomed far in on or galaxies viewed from lightyears away, synapses sparkle and flash with light as civilizations rise and fall in Safrin's thoughts. Clever men had come before Jack and would come after, but in this moment his impetuous and careless devotion—not to mention the ease with which she could make him suffer more than just a bloody nose—filled her with a sense of kinetic pleasure that had earned him her attention for a little longer.
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!
Jack Barclay
Captain of the Ark

Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 7 - Int:
SEVEN - Mythical - Sear Cat
Played by: Honey Offline
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#13
JACK
"Yes," Jack says, as if the lies he tells are sacred oaths, and he smiles lopsidedly through the blood streaming across his lips and down his chin. As if to demonstrate, he lifts a hand and, with numb fingers, beckons the objects to fly closer. The gale in the lighthouse is enough to stir his hair around his face and set his clothes a'flutter, and as each object flies by, he plucks it from the air to present it to the goddess.

"I bring these to you, Safrin," he says, just about managing not to slur. I bring these to you, and I'll bring you the anchor from my ship if you want it instead. I'll have men thrown off the Aumakua in your name if that would suit you. I might not be able to make them fly for long, but it still counts, right?
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret.


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#14
Safrin
Even as the interior of her shrine plays host to Jack's gale, Safrin's hair remains in perfect waves that frame her face and seem to stir only when the moment calls for it. It's a real shame he can't see the vivid contrast of blue and red the way she can, and had his thoughts not caressed all the right parts of her vanity, she might have taken the time for him to see her as she was seeing him.

But oh, he had made it all about her with the sort of violent promises and careless regard for anyone or anything that wasn't her, and with Ronin playing at being a good man, Deimos turning her down, and Sunjata needing TiMe, how she desperately, desperately had missed this.

"How very generous of you.." Safrin says at last, and it certainly sounds as though she is willing to play along. Release his cheek, Safrin presses her fingertip against one of his lips, now smeared with—sails flutter full of wind as a hull breaks through cerulean seas that sparkle with starlight—his blood. Coquettishly she considers it for a moment and—jack's hand runs along the wood of the Ark, and his bones will sing with safrin's laughter—then raises it just beneath his left eye. Making a—starlight swirls like in the movie pulsing the way certain organs do when—small star there that will remain no matter how often—knuckles are made white with tension, clutching fresh sheets—Jack tries to wash it away. For a moment there will be—sweat that smell of the sea and hands as relentless as the waves—a singular flash of pain the likes of which Jack will never have felt before. But then it will all be—the ark slides sensually out of the water, silhouetted against the moon—over; only Safrin's smile will remain.

"Your ship aways, Captain."



Jack has been given

Ark (basic) | A ship that is able to fly only at night. Bright starry nights move her sails the fastest, whereas cloudy skies will feel like windless seas. Leaves a shimmer of starlight in her wake rather than ripples. Gracefully descends at dawn.

He's also been branded with a small star tattoo, beneath his left eye.
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!


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