[ The great thing about nobody knowing who you are is that nobody knows that from the moment you've been handed this situation you've been doing nothing but internally screaming. Anne can, of course, but she's Anne, she hardly counts as 'nobody.' She's practically a third limb, permanently attached.)
There are some upsides: Jack can bathe, and he spends far too much time soaking and staring at the ceilings contemplating why the fuck he's here. The mess hall, next, always incredibly grateful that not only is there food but it's hot and fresh, the prospect of a full stomach always welcoming. He has no qualms with stuffing his face as much as he can regardless of manners.
He's about to set out to survey the docks when he notices someone from the mess hall--he'd said hi, and Jack had nodded through a mouthful in reciprocation--and as he shoulders his own supply pack, the stranger asks him a question. ]
I think that at the moment I'm finding myself far more concerned with my current state of being and the fact that I've been brought here by means I cannot possibly fathom. [ His eyebrows quirk up, beady gaze locked onto the other man, finding him to be just about the same height. ] Deliberation concerning this place's aesthetic is ultimately futile until I have a better grasp on what the fuck is happening. [ The man in the boat's little speech is completely insufficient, thank you. He's not used to this magic shit. It's unnerving. He'll adapt, he always does, but jesus christ, this is an awful lot. ]
[ Jack's lips twitch after a moment, internally fighting himself, visibly conflicted despite the surety of his previous statement. He looks pained until his gaze slides over to the effigy after a few beats of silence. ]
...It's fine. [ His voice is casual, flippant. Judgemental. He's clearly thought about this before. ] The yellow's a particularly garish shade. [ So what, maybe he does have far too many opinions on the aesthetic of this place. Sue him. His gaze darts back to the other, looking at him expectantly. ]
i; temple
There are some upsides: Jack can bathe, and he spends far too much time soaking and staring at the ceilings contemplating why the fuck he's here. The mess hall, next, always incredibly grateful that not only is there food but it's hot and fresh, the prospect of a full stomach always welcoming. He has no qualms with stuffing his face as much as he can regardless of manners.
He's about to set out to survey the docks when he notices someone from the mess hall--he'd said hi, and Jack had nodded through a mouthful in reciprocation--and as he shoulders his own supply pack, the stranger asks him a question. ]
I think that at the moment I'm finding myself far more concerned with my current state of being and the fact that I've been brought here by means I cannot possibly fathom. [ His eyebrows quirk up, beady gaze locked onto the other man, finding him to be just about the same height. ] Deliberation concerning this place's aesthetic is ultimately futile until I have a better grasp on what the fuck is happening. [ The man in the boat's little speech is completely insufficient, thank you. He's not used to this magic shit. It's unnerving. He'll adapt, he always does, but jesus christ, this is an awful lot. ]
[ Jack's lips twitch after a moment, internally fighting himself, visibly conflicted despite the surety of his previous statement. He looks pained until his gaze slides over to the effigy after a few beats of silence. ]
...It's fine. [ His voice is casual, flippant. Judgemental. He's clearly thought about this before. ] The yellow's a particularly garish shade. [ So what, maybe he does have far too many opinions on the aesthetic of this place. Sue him. His gaze darts back to the other, looking at him expectantly. ]