It's a single word, and a slight touch, and it shouldn't hit so deeply, but it does. While Jo stares in the middle of them at nothing and tries not to go to perfect, rock still, on one hand, or to shiver on the other. It's nothing something she's put on a platter. Not for any of the men or women she's pulled into her bed, since she rolled out of hell.

She damned Jack for his lack of asking, when she never offered, and she covered it up more than not. She nodded, barely, just a tip back and forth, once, even as she sat back to straight up, pulling her shirt back right. "No tattoos or piercing either." She found herself annoyed as all get out about it for the first few years. Now it just was. "I had all three before." Scars, tattoos, and piercings. "None of them stay now."

It would be pointless to point out she never asked for that part. Not exactly. She asked to survive, and she hadn't cared about the consequences or the required details of the need at the time. A gift. A desperation. A gratitude. For something she couldn't even remember entirely. Just that it was important. It had been so important. She'd done something. Or he had.

Jo can't help but snort a little at the last part though. "You'll be fine. You aren't the reason any of them are where they are."
At least not any more than she was, or anyone else in the bar was. Or the 4/5ths of them were not part of why Thorfinn died.