JACK
"Good. If you leave the fuckers in Torchline I'll make sure they never worm their way onto another ship again." Or maybe he'll recruit them himself and whip them into shape himself. Who knows, who cares at this moment, in a shady bar on an island to kill a few hours. Watching their waitress leave with an appreciative glance at her backside, Jack takes another sip of his rum before offering her a response.
"I'm not sure they've actually declared anythin' yet. There's a lot of pomp and posturin' though. They're preparin' for it, for sure," he mutters, still tapping away at the table with one finger. "I've got no doubt shit'll start flyin' even out on the open ocean soon enough." You can run but you can't hide from conflict, in Jack's experience. "You declared for any gods?" he asks.
"I'm not sure they've actually declared anythin' yet. There's a lot of pomp and posturin' though. They're preparin' for it, for sure," he mutters, still tapping away at the table with one finger. "I've got no doubt shit'll start flyin' even out on the open ocean soon enough." You can run but you can't hide from conflict, in Jack's experience. "You declared for any gods?" he asks.
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
