the wild wild sea talking sweet to me

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

That's the thing about seedy nobodies, isn't it? Nobody sees them coming, and nobody misses them when they're gone. Such will be the case with this one (not exactly, the man has a long-suffering wife and a handful of kids at home, but they can miss him on their own time) as Jack haunts the doorway of The Hanged Man and makes a beeline for the bar, where the stranger's hands are getting real grabby with the Queen of Torchline.

Speaking of Flora, her thoughts are a mad and dizzying thicket of snarling thought and riotous emotion, painting the walls of her mind black with a greasy luminescence that has Jack wanting to metaphorically wipe it off his hands. Knowing nothing of what has happened - and able to glean even less thanks to the state of the Doubletake - the captain is left with only crumbs of a picture forming in his mind. They scatter amid the frustration, the worry (and yes, the fear) that has mounted in the hours since Flora hadn't returned to The Ark, turning sharp with an emotion Jack can settle in much more comfortably: fury.

"Mind if I cut in?" he grates, his own fingers peeling the man's grip away from the Doubletake, his free hand a guiding presence against the stranger's other side that has him hitching in a sudden intake of breath. Only when Jack ushers him away - and tucks the bloody knife Flora had made such fun of away in his pocket - does the reason behind his response become clear, but the captain has long stopped caring as he staggers away.

"The fuck is this?" he hisses.

are the angels on their way
i’m in the dirt