[SE] bonfire cries and fireflies

it's not your fault that you're always wrong

Jack snorts at Saiden and is about to open his mouth in agreement with the sentiment about his ego, when he's corralled into a one-armed hug and a whiskered cheek scrapes against his own. Zeph either doesn't have any thoughts in his fucking head or he's moved too quick for Jack to catch him, but either way the captain suffers through the kiss with a hiss of disapproval, shoving the other man away and taking a long swig of wine to hide his smile.

But where Jack doesn't partake in lantern making, Seven is a social butterfly in comparison. The little shit sniffs at Aurelia's hand, greeting it with a generous headbutt before going to sniff at the chilli she's offered as well. "Meat," she says to the sailor, settling on Aurelia's lap and promptly digging into the offered bowl.

"We got one all of a week ago," Jack grumbles about the sear cat. "I've been selected for ownership, it seems." Regarding the festival, he's in agreement with their newest crew member, if he's honest - but not for such sentimental reasons. Jack hasn't got anyone worth making a lantern for, in truth.