it's just a bloodstain

JACK

No one did ask him to follow, and perhaps that's more an indication than anything of the things the captain never says, perhaps never even thinks, but that remain true regardless. Watching Flora on the prowl for a warm body for the night is impressive, that he can't deny, though she might have forgotten that he isn't one of those meat sacks in The Hanged Man tonight, and it will take a lot more than lewd thoughts and a pair of tits to put him off. The dark rum between the server's breasts and the somewhat focused nature of her thoughts (careful now, Flora) is a nice touch, granted, and it's only out of the corner of his eye that he realises the Doubletake is slipping out of the door with some dark-haired nobody.

Having abandoned his corner of the bar a moment later, it's in darkness and through relatively deserted streets that he follows after Flora and her new beau - a man whose hands only continue to wander, rough and clumsy and feeling only a dark satisfaction to be able to say he'd had a queen on the end of his cock. Jack doesn't exactly manage to get in front of the couple, but rather he appears at Flora's elbow on her other side like some ghost come to haunt her evening, raising an eyebrow at Tall Man as if wondering if that's really the best the bar had to offer.

"This is what you want?" He tilts his head at her. "Really?"

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended