JACK
Jack can appreciate her mind's doodle of his 'boat', a smile creeping unbidden across his face. If she changed the sails to a ruddy red colour and gave it a bunch of cannons and a bunch more storage space, she'd be about there. The rowdy crew, at least, is completely accurate. As she begins to speak, Jack touches a hand to the bruise on his cheek, wincing and feeling like a total tit for prodding at it in the first place. "Mm, it's pretty much the same," he tells her without preamble. Sorry if that rains on your parade goes unsaid.
Oversharing is impossible for someone like Jack, and he starts to meander past her down the beach again, a little more upright this time. Wordlessly, he motions for her to join him on the walk - if she's going there anyway, that is. "What kind of odd jobs you do?" he inquires. Jack frequently uses messengers, runners, deckhands, that sort of thing, especially in the Longheat months when the Ark is in port and it's too hot to sail.
Oversharing is impossible for someone like Jack, and he starts to meander past her down the beach again, a little more upright this time. Wordlessly, he motions for her to join him on the walk - if she's going there anyway, that is. "What kind of odd jobs you do?" he inquires. Jack frequently uses messengers, runners, deckhands, that sort of thing, especially in the Longheat months when the Ark is in port and it's too hot to sail.
believer... believe it or not you'll know
when it ends and how it goes
when it ends and how it goes
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
