JACK
Flora doesn't know this about Jack yet, but it's something she'll likely learn very quickly, but he wakes up grumpy every morning, and shut the fuck up is practically a compliment when it comes to the scale of his insults. Wishing he had his cigarette back and instead taking another slow sip of whiskey, he scoffs and shrugs before turning to check back in on the oven. "Suit yourself," he mutters, letting her get on with the cake batter.
"'Cause in some places, herbs are difficult to get hold of, an' they make good payment for shit that is worth smugglin'," he says, not that he imagines she'll care. A light breeze picks up through the kitchen as Jack tries to re-feed the fire, having smothered it a little too much during their conversation. "An' don't flatter yourself, you ain't up to bein' a ship wench yet."
As for who the food is for and what the festival in general is in aid of, Jack shrugs carelessly and finishes his whiskey. "No idea. Tea parties ain't my thing," he says.
"'Cause in some places, herbs are difficult to get hold of, an' they make good payment for shit that is worth smugglin'," he says, not that he imagines she'll care. A light breeze picks up through the kitchen as Jack tries to re-feed the fire, having smothered it a little too much during their conversation. "An' don't flatter yourself, you ain't up to bein' a ship wench yet."
As for who the food is for and what the festival in general is in aid of, Jack shrugs carelessly and finishes his whiskey. "No idea. Tea parties ain't my thing," he says.
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!
