6th of Ash, Year 4621
It didn't take them long to find their new home. Alice's betrayal had failed to materialize the way she wanted it to -- though it did bring back past memories. The betrayal that led to Daniel's death was still fresh in the minds of those who remained, the eleven of them that had survived all the Badland's toils.
Their new base ended up being remarkably similar in appearance to the place where Daniel died, but Jack tried not to think about it, or even comment on it. He did not want them to suffer more of a journey for the sake of his own grief. This... circular, enclosed mesa, it was a good spot to lay their heads. They would need to pitch tents and eventually build structures, but there were things he liked about it more than those rusted Unbroken bunkers.
He liked the feeling of the air more; it was crisper. He liked the ferns that grew along the walls, and the warmth that was somehow far better regulated than within that metal tomb. He also liked all of the places to climb, explore, and the natural protection of being surrounded on all sides, with lookouts etched along the walls as tiered levels. This was a good place for them to call their abode, and he was glad they could finally lay their heads and rest, even if he was puking out radioactive bile every several hours. It would wane now that the initial Mageblight infection was receding and settling in, but it was still painful, uncomfortable and disgusting while it lasted.
"Carlos," he called behind him, as the younger man loomed over, tempting fate as to whether or not he should sit down beside him. Jack made the choice easy, patting the smooth stone surface of his flank, glancing up and offering him a faint smile.
"Hey, Jack," he whispered, moving in to take a seat beside him. "How're you feeling? I was worried about you."
"Better," he tipped his head. "My mind's lettin' me rest for a while. Not... racin' so much. Just givin' me time to think, you know? About everythin'."
"What're you thinking about -- err, what does everything include?"
He shrugged, pressing his palms against the rocks to keep himself upright, looking up above him. "What my life would be like if my father and mother never came to the Badlands. Would I be all cushy like an Entente, like how I was born, or would I have gotten killed when my father inevitably lost his title and belongings to some cutthroat piece of shit? What fortune, what fate lied out there for me... I'll never know. Would I even be happy?"
"I think you'd be happy," Carlos nodded. "Somehow, Jack, you always find a way to be -- even in situations that would break so many others."
"You'd be surprised," he said. "That's the me I want you to see, you know? The me that's really there... really feeling all of these things, he's not so sure." Pausing, he looked toward the other, before lifting his hand for a moment and facing his palm toward him. "Hey -- you mind if I practice my magic with you, a little? The Overstepping's pretty much gone now; I'm fine. I had some stuff I wanted to practice. Can feel myself gettin' better."
"Err," Carlos hummed, his brows furrowing. "Uh -- sure, Jack. Just don't kill me."
"I won't. Besides -- better ways to die than bein' accidentally killed by a man you're crushin' on. At least I'll never forget you that way."
The other man wasn't certain whether to laugh, blush or punch him in the shoulder.