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You hear that?

That is the noise of Jack approaching the farm, European folk metal blaring out of the speakers of the Coraline. He had considered arriving at Ruth, but then he decided to screw that idea. Jack Hollins doesn't fear anything at the farm, dammit.

So he's driving up merrily, singing along with the radio.

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Does Oliver doubt Jack's abilities? For shame!

"I intend to find her body, of course."

Oliver, missing a lot of information, defaults to what he knows: that Jack will find the body and bury it properly. That's the most common request from ghosts to those Godsworn who can hear them.

Jack gets a nod. "Very," surprisingly, "decent of you."

"Never let it be said I abandon the ladies in trouble," Jack points out, decidedly offended that Oliver would assume he wouldn't.

Although he does clarify, "she wishes it returned top her occupation."

Oliver doesn't set much stock in there being honor among thieves - nor on their having a clear sense of the natural order of things.

His eyes widen in alarm. In Fremmanland, crowskins create zombies using infernal magics - rising from the grave doesn't have pleasant associations.

He inhales shortly. "And how on earth does she plan to accomplish that?"

Nor does Jack hold stock in there being true morality in people who require rules to dictate their actions, which is the very root of his enmity with Wycliffe.

"First I believe she needs to evict the alien spirit currently residing therein."

Oliver looks confused, then annoyed at being confused.

"Some sort of..." Oliver stops himself from saying demon, "being possesses her physical form? And her soul manages to survive on its own?"

"Aye!"

Jack is more patronising than Oliver deserves, truth be told.

"The dead ghost displaces her own. And we seek to fix it!"

It takes all of Oliver's self-control not to grit his teeth at the tone. He knows more of what this situation entails (though he's certain Jack isn't telling him the full story); that's the important thing.

"It certainly is," he searches for just the right word, "a challenge."

"That it is," Jack confirms. "And what is life without a challenge?"

Apparently souls can survive on their own now. Just when you thought you got used to the weirdness....

Oliver purposefully assumes Jack's question to be rhetorical, as he's had enough of the man. Also, he's freezing.

"Good luck on your quest, then."

Jack touches his fingers to his hat, allowing Oliver to make that assumption.

"And thank ye for the wishes."

That, at least, is a sincere acceptance of the good luck wish. It's just polite.

A nod, then Oliver goes into the farm house to warm up.

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