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

JACK

One of Jack's hands remains upturned on the felt, but the other spreads warm fingers against The Ark's hip, as if her flinch has shot right up the length of his arm and he needs to adjust for it. But the waters of her mind still, at least against their initial unease, and when they start to churn again it's with the rising tide of a storm on the way. Jack smiles; indulgent, amicable almost as he regards the man whose hand still grips the hilt of the knife, his face pale with a mix of anger and unease.

"Maybe I should've let him draw blood," he considers in a soft voice, glancing up towards her in the suddenly dim lamplight. "Been a long time since someone tried to stab me at a poker table." The scent of ozone spikes through the air only a fraction of a second before electricity crackles up the blade of the knife and into the thug's hand. He screams and has to peel his fingers away, but they're already smoking, and as the thunder of footsteps fills the bar - some running away, some closer - Jack finally gets to his feet himself.

He's slow about it in comparison, though, taking his time and helping The Ark up as well, ensuring that she's set and steady on her feet. "A'right," he says. "I guess this is a fuckin' bar brawl now."

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!