{ Nonverbal Starters }

Anyone else, and this would have ended in a very different fashion. Charles remained wary in spite of his present compliance, and with the rather grim awareness that it was counterproductive to the other man’s efforts. 

On the one hand, he knew what Joji was capable of – and frankly after the fuck of a day he’d had, he could use the attention. On the other hand, there was still a great deal outside of this cabin that was not yet managed in a way he felt wholly comfortable with, and as long as there was a threat the concept of relaxing was as foreign as the man working his muscles into something vaguely resembling suppleness. 

He knew the crew could manage it. Fuck, Anne could manage a good sixty percent of this island by herself if she was of a mind to – of that, he had no doubt. More than enough corpses piled up at her feet to make that irrefutable, and if it meant she had to work with someone to achieve a bigger body count from time to time, he knew there were people who’d rather follow her than stand against her. 

Rackham might not have been able to fight his way out of a sandcastle, but he was smart enough to keep the crew maneuverable, and ensure that nothing would get to fucked up if Charles let himself indulge for a few hours – not to mention Joji himself, if everything went straight to shit, was plenty capable of shifting from calm to untouchable force of nature if it called for it.

Yet despite knowing all of this, relaxation just wasn’t coming. And after a good five or so minutes of letting the man work, he twisted himself back up and moved away, shaking his head. He didn’t need to explain shit to Joji – one of the great things about the man’s silence was it meant he could keep his own, and still make shit perfectly clear. 

Until the fires died down, nobody on the Ranger would rest. And if they kept burning, then the crew might well have to prepare to go and put them out.

Permanently. 

@tidefated