call me Thor, call me Raiden, call me goddamn Zeus

JACK

"Now the last card's turned over. This one's called the river," Jack is explaining patiently to The Ark, as if they've got all the time in the world and he isn't in the middle of a game of poker in a seedy, floating little bar on the fringes of the Castaway Exchange. A cigarette hangs between his lips and one of his arms is slung easily around her in his seat, the Captain having invited her to perch on the arm of his chair to learn. "Now you've got one last round of bettin', an' you can use your cards and the five cards on the table to make the best hand you can get."

Around them the rest of the poker table looks, at best, nervous. All but the dealer, of course, who is impassive to these sorts of things, even the curious gargling noise that seems to be echoing up from beside Jack's chair. He takes a long drag on his cigarette before offering it to The Ark and exhaling, picking up his hand to examine it. "See, I should fold with this," he tells her with a sigh. "Shitty cards. But I dunno, love - I reckon my luck's in. What'd you think?"

This question is not directed at The Ark, but at the source of the choked gurgling next to him. It's caused by Jack's foot pressed firmly on the throat of some poor fuck whose name he's forgotten, and he cocks his head as if to better hear him. "Mm, I thought so too," he decides, nodding at the table. "I'll raise."

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!