maskormenacelogs | closed | all you have is your fire

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closed | all you have is your fire

WHO: Jessica Jones and a few poor unfortunate souls
WHERE: Maurtia Falls and Elsewhere!
WHEN: Backdated to December
WHAT: Dealing with the effects of a broken Porter. This is the endless saga of Jessica Jones and her crapass luck.
WARNINGS: Swearing, violence, blood, alcoholism, and Jess being an asshole. Will update with more if necessary.

december 5 | elektra natchios

[ it starts out as a typical evening. jessica jones, the epitome of elegance, heading home from the liquor store. perhaps she would benefit more by investing that time in her job, but hey, alcoholism is a twenty-four hour gig. she's waiting to cross the street when the unthinkable suddenly happens.

a frightened man is held at knifepoint, and while jess is no hero, she can't simply stand there and watch. she instructs the victim to run, and once he does, her body runs on pure adrenaline. stepping forward, she swings her fist at the assailant. however, the punch lacks one essential component — her superhuman strength. he stumbles back, yet doesn't fall unconscious, and thrusts his weapon towards her out of instinct.

the blade slices through her jacket, piercing her flesh, and jessica's eyes widen. ]

Shit.

december 10 | sarah manning

[ jessica jones is a goddamn moron. she should have learned her lesson from the start, when all the crazy shit, as a result of the porter, first went down. however, she hasn't heard from trish in far too long for her comfort, and nothing else matters other than finding the other woman.

the mission is simple — head out, locate trish, and make sure she's safe. unfortunately, her crapass luck never ends. although she knows now from experience that she's powerless, she still intervenes in a deadly confrontation. one which concludes with her body on the pavement, bleeding from a gunshot wound alone in the middle of an alleyway.

nice going, jones. ]

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[ Sarah hasn't been feeling too great this month, but it hasn't yet reached the point where it's stopping her from going out. After you have to walk around with a stab wound on your leg and start a fire with broken fingers, a cough doesn't seem like such an emergency.

Anyway, that's why, luckily for Jessica Jones, she's out and about and just so happens to be walking past the alley where Jess is lying. She's about to pass by when she stops and takes a closer look—is that a person? Are they bleeding? ]

Oh, fuck, [ she's muttering as she steps hesitantly into the alley to take a closer look. Dead people = not high on her list of random encounters. But if the person's not dead, and she just walked by and ignored it, she'd never be able to forgive herself for it. ] Hello? [ And just as she says that, she gets close enough to identify the bleeding person. ] Shit. Jessica?

[ the pain is immense and unimaginable. it shoots through her slender body, spreading like wildfire. jessica jones has never been bulletproof, yet under normal circumstances, her enhanced durability is an asset. now that it's absent, she's vulnerable for the first time in years.

sarah's presence causes her to focus, stopping her from passing out entirely, and jess groans aloud. she can barely keep her eyes open. ]

Sar— [ no, not sarissa. wrong sister. sarah? her expression twists into an ugly scowl, as another pang of agony rushes through her frame. ] Shit.

Yeah, so happy to see you, too.

[ Sarah drops to her knees on the asphalt and tries to figure out what... the fuck... happened here. Where Jess is hurt. She puts a hand on Jess's shoulder and tries to roll her onto her back without hurting her worse somehow. ]

Jesus, what the hell happened?

What do you think?

[ she snaps back, her voice strained by the ache weighing down on her chest. once sarah investigates, she'll find the source of her injury — a bullet wound near her stomach. jessica's dark jacket obscures how severe it truly is, but the blood continues to pour. ]

Shot. [ jess mumbles after a moment, struggling to sit up, which is a futile effort. she's in no condition to move. ] Fuck.

[ Normally Sarah would comment on Jessica's shitty attitude, but this is no time to harp on that, and it's not like she can blame someone for being shitty right after they've been shot. The sight of the blood makes her swallow and glance away briefly, but then she's pulling off her own leather jacket and the hoodie she has on underneath it. The first gets dumped in a heap by her side, and the second she crumples into a ball and presses against Jessica's stomach. ]

This is gonna hurt, but just keep holding it there, yeah? [ Gently as she can, she props Jess into a sitting position so she can check for an exit wound in the back. ]

Bullet's still in.

[ her jaw clenches, withstanding another wave of pain, as jess complies. the fabric is clutched within her fist, and she places pressure on the wound. she's slowly bleeding to death, and sarah manning is her only hope. goddammit, she's screwed.

where's claire temple when you need her? ]

Just go. [ a sharp scoff. ] Let me die in peace. Or with booze, if you have any.

I'm not letting you die, you idiot. Christ.

[ She pulls out her communicator and starts dialing for an ambulance while she thinks about what else she should be doing right now. It's not like she can use a tourniquet and tie off half of Jess's fucking body. Ughhh. At least this time she won't be forced to dig the bullet out with her finger. ]

I don't need your— [ jessica begins to protest, attempting to stand, before she winces and grits her teeth. ] Goddammit.

Fine. [ an ambulance, fair enough. hopefully, the nearest hospital isn't full of morons. considering this dump, she won't hold her breath. ] But hurry up.

[ she still needs to find trish. she doesn't have time for this bullshit. ]

[ Sarah ignores her, at first, more focused on speaking to the dispatcher and making sure an ambulance is on the way. She puts a hand on Jess's shoulder, more to keep her in place than out of a desire to comfort, and only speaks to her again once she's hung up the phone. ]

Where are you in such a hurry to get to? [ Because there's no way she'll be able to make it now. ] And what the hell happened, anyway?

[ is this really the best time to chat, manning? jesus christ. she takes a deep breath, then swallows hard. ]

Some asshole had a gun. Told him to fuck off.

[ which is the truth, though not in its entire form. jess has never been a fan of admitting when she's trying to play hero. she snorts dryly. ]

He disagreed.

[ She's just trying to keep you conscious, Jessica!!! God!!!

Now that she's off the phone, Sarah crouches back down next to Jess and presses her own hand over top of the hoodie. She figures two hands are better than one, right? Especially if one of the hands belongs to the person who's bleeding out. And she doesn't know what to say to Jess's story, so she just shakes her head in some combination of frustration and acceptance. ]

Ambulance will be here soon.

[ after she hears that reassuring response, jessica finally relaxes, her shoulders slumping down with a quiet sigh. the scowl fades from her expression, as her eyes shut. ]

I wasn't joking about the booze.

[ if you have any on you, sarah, hand it over. ]

Sorry, all out. [ Even if she had some, she's pretty sure giving food or drink to someone who's been shot in the gut is a seriously bad idea.

She sits quietly for several seconds, just keeping pressure on the wound, and then she notices that Jessica's eyes are closed. Also bad, probably. ]

Hey, you should keep your eyes open.

[ excuse you, it's an amazing idea. unfortunately, her request fails to register with jessica, as she already starts to slip unconscious. ]

Ugh— [ she manages to mutter, her head falling until it collides with sarah's shoulder. in her current state, there's only one thought on her mind. ] Trish.

Hey—no. [ She takes her free hand and props Jessica's head up as best she can. The other one is still holding her now sodden hoodie to Jessica's stomach, for all the good that's doing. Fuck. She doesn't want to be here, she doesn't want to be the person who has to handle this, she doesn't even know what she's doing. Someone else needs to be here, someone who knows how to help. Still, despite her internal panic, when she speaks her voice is calm. ] Look at me. Jess. Tell me something.

[ it's remarkable, how much she's relying on sarah to help her out in this dire situation. if she was more conscious, jess would be stubborn enough to resist every step of the way. however, as it is, her calm presence is more of a comfort than a detriment.

concentrating on the serene sound of her voice, jessica grunts in pain. with her blurred vision, she looks at sarah. ]

This fucking blows.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

[ Because as much as she doesn't want to be here, it's Jessica who's bleeding out in an alley, and Sarah can't let her own feelings stop her from helping someone who's hurt and scared. That would be something the old Sarah would do, and she can't let herself be that person right now, when someone really needs her. ]

Just... keep talking. Tell me about something fun you did as a kid, or list your favorite drinks, or some shit. Anything.

[ talk about her childhood or her favorite booze. good lord. jessica lets out a sharp, bitter laugh, which results in further pain. with a low exhale, she furrows her brow into a harsh grimace.

suddenly, she recalls waking up in the hospital after the car accident that stole her family away from her. she was alone, distressed beyond measure. she doesn't want to imagine trish's reaction.

trish — shit, shit, shit. in near panic, she reaches out to grab sarah by her shirt. ]

Remember my friend on the network? [ when they were wasted and made the brilliant decision to post to the network. ] Her name's Trish. Trish Walker. Find her. Make sure she's safe.

[ well, she did say to keep talking. about anything. ]

Yeah, I remember. [ Vaguely. They were pretty wasted. ] Trish Walker. I'll find her.

[ in an instant, her posture relaxes. not completely, yet she's notably more relieved. huffing another breath, her grip on the other woman's shirt weakens. ]

Good.

[ her life is a goddamn cliché. she's resting in sarah's arms, drained of blood and energy. when is that ambulance going to get here? again, she shuts her gaze, though her heartbeat stays steady. it's almost time.

last words. christ, is this truly how she's going to die? she thinks of trish, of luke and malcolm — of everything she's never told them. fuck, she's always been such a coward. well, for once, she won't succumb to that impulse. not if she's going to perish here and now. ]

Sorry I was such a shithead to you. [ her voice barely exceeds the volume of a whisper. ] And Sarissa.

S'alright. [ She's not just saying it to be polite, either. Jessica is pretty much a shithead, yeah, but it's refreshing, in a way. At least she's honest.

She thinks she can hear sirens in the distance. She just needs to keep Jessica conscious until the paramedics get here, and then it's out of her hands. ]

I, uh—I was with this real winner, back home. He was a coke dealer, and he used to beat the shit out of me. And one day I finally got sick of it, so I hit him in the face with an ashtray and left. He found me, like, right off, it wasn't hard. My foster brother's place was the first place he checked. Shit got so desperate that I actually got my brother to pretend I'd killed myself, but that fucker still kept coming around, screwing up all my shit. [ The sirens are close, now, and she gently disengages herself from Jess so she can wave the ambulance to a stop. ] How's that for a shithead, eh? You're like sunshine and rainbows, comparatively. And you're gonna be okay, I promise.

[ she can't quite focus on sarah's words, though jess makes a genuine attempt. this may very well be her last moment alive, after all, and her stubborn spirit won't succumb without a fight.

jessica scoffs, though the sound is trapped within her throat. with her remaining strength, she reaches out to touch sarah, her hand grasping whatever fabric she can clench. ]

Don't let that bastard stay in your head.

[ it's not that effortless, jessica knows all too well, but it's still important to remember. she deserves better. ]

[ Sarah puts her own hand on Jess's and squeezes, just for a second, to show she's heard her. Then she steps away, to the mouth of the alley, so she can lead the EMTs to where Jess is lying. ]

[ with a final sigh, jess shuts her gaze, allowing herself to slip unconscious. she doesn't witness bright lights or hear a choir of angels. no, her mind wanders back to the past, a moment in her life that brings both joy and misery.

in her sleep, jessica starts to mutter one name after another — calling for her parents and brother. ultimately, when she awakens, it's a violent reaction. her eyes snap open, and a low gasp escapes her mouth.

she's alive, but goddamn, everything hurts. ]

[ Sarah has been sitting slumped in the chair next to Jessica's bed for the past few hours. At this point, still not feeling great herself, she's half asleep, but when she hears Jess stirring she manages to sit upright and make herself look more or less awake. She's not sure exactly what Jessica is muttering, whose names she's calling, but it doesn't sound like she's having good dreams. When she finally opens her eyes, Sarah leans over and puts a hand on her arm. ]

Hey.

[ her shoulders slump, as jess takes a deep breath to recover. sarah's hand on her arm causes her to flinch instinctively, though she doesn't pull away from her touch. ]

Hey.

[ her tone is soft and strained. after a few seconds, everything suddenly comes back to her — bleeding from a gunshot, sarah coming to her rescue, her promise to help trish ... trish. ]

You find her?

Yeah. Yeah, she's fine.

[ Sarah sees Jessica flinch at her touch, and pulls her hand back, concerned. ]

How are you feeling?

Like crap.

[ she mumbles, her throat hoarse. this is the perfect time for cracking jokes, right? still, jess is visibly more relaxed, once she receives the confirmation that her best friend is safe. ]

Been here long?

A few hours.

[ She stands, both to stretch her legs and so she can pour some water from a pitcher into a plastic cup and place it on the table next to Jessica's bed. ]

I know you probably want me to get out of here, but I didn't wanna go til you woke up.

[ god, sarah manning is doing fairly well with this whole knight in shining armor thing; jess can't wrap her mind around it. a part of her does want to be alone right now, but she can't bring herself to make that request.

her gaze flickers from the cup of water at her bedside to sarah's face. ]

I need a drink. A real one.

[ uhh ]

They're not exactly serving whiskey in the cafeteria.

Yeah well, they should.

[ she grumbles back, shifting into a sitting position on her hospital bed. there's a long pause before jess speaks again, as her expression turns more solemn. ]

Thanks.

[ for checking in on trish, and for saving her ass. ]

Yeah, I wasn't gonna leave you to bleed out, was I? I'm not a bloody sociopath. Now if you'd run into Rachel, it'd be a different story.

[ Rachel or possibly Helena, depending on her mood. Actually, Jess should feel lucky she ran into the Tatiana she did. ]

[ as soon as weapon slices through flesh, a blade thicker and longer than that of a measly knife cuts through his flesh and organs, and right through the fabric of his thin shirt and thick jacket. elektra's behind the assailant, twin sai lodged in his chest. she throws him off of her blade, giving him little attention as he bleeds out before her. ]

[ although her powers have gone haywire — her empathy has her sensing those around her to the point where her emotions are infected inside of them, and her reflexes are lacking, sometimes a little sluggish — elektra has never once felt herself waiver with her twin sais. jessica's strong emotions — the desire to escape, the desire to rip and tear — had drawn her here, and it's those emotions elektra harnesses like she does her own blade. ]

[ the fear, the pain — it ebbs away. elektra glances toward the man, sensing his fear and slapping it away, her hair sticking to her face and even covering her eyes. she doesn't brush it back when she looks back at jessica. ] You shouldn't bring punches to a knife fight, Jessica. [ perhaps before jessica even has time to think, elektra's scooping her up easily, holding her bridal style. using the strength that's left of her own abilities and tapping into that of jessica's, elektra makes holding jessica jones look pretty damn easy. ]

[ she purposefully chooses to forget the alcohol. ]

[ she hardly has a moment to process the events unfolding in front of her, before elektra appears and sweeps her off her feet. quite literally. the shock coursing through her system soon dissipates into relief, followed by disgust at the bloodied corpse that falls to the ground.

huffing a breath, jessica swallows hard as she's held within the other woman's embrace. elektra's own emotions — an unwavering sense of confidence, sharpened by the strength of her blade, wash over her. ]

You didn't have to kill him. Jesus.

[ it's not a harsh reprimand, but rather one softened by elektra's powers and her implicit gratitude that, while unspoken, is also sincere. jessica jones loathes murder, yet she appreciates the gesture even if she refuses to acknowledge it aloud.

after a few seconds, she gradually returns to her senses. she's not a goddamn kid. she can stand on her own. placing a hand over the gash on her abdomen, jess narrows her gaze as she grits her teeth. ]

What the hell are you doing?

[ despite jessica's protest, elektra doesn't drop her. she feels confident — a sort of confidence she has only felt once or twice in her life. it's this unstoppable, invincible sort of feeling, like she could take on the world and know the world will cower. ]

Saving you. [ her brows furrow together as she smugly asks, ] Isn't that what it looks like?

[ she doesn't shift jessica in her arms. though she may not know how deep the wound is, she suspects it hasn't sliced through anything important. jessica jones would be a little more vocal if that was the case, she thinks. ]

You're welcome to walk on your own if you like. [ elektra doesn't stop walking, though. she suspects she already knows the answer (she can feel the answer). ]

[ her heartbeat accelerates, the sound ringing in her ears like thunder. christ, she's flustered, still overwhelmed by the abrupt turn of events. one moment, trepidation shakes her frame, and the next, she's cradled by elektra natchios, of all people.

perhaps she can already feel the answer, but jessica is about to show it to her anyway. struggling stubbornly, jess slips out of her arms and nearly collapses to the pavement. at the last second, she maintains her balance, as well as her dignity. ]

I'm not some damsel in distress. [ all hard edges again — typical jessica jones. ] Like your boyfriend.

[ jessica may become overwhelmed with an emotion she may not have expected: amusement. elektra doesn't rise to the bait. ] He is a damsel.

[ the devil of hell's kitchen may be a forced to be reckoned with, but elektra has always known he was wrapped around her little finger. she kind of likes being the hero ... ]

[ it may be a strange sight, elektra carrying jessica, but there's hardly anyone on the streets. if anyone turns their heads, elektra doesn't take any notice. she has one destination in mind: her godforsaken shitty living place, given to her by those who thought it best to recruit her. ]

Is there a reason why you brought him up? [ she almost sounds bored, but there's a tinge of exasperation humming on the edge of her feelings. ]

[ "to piss you off" would be the truthful answer, but jess bites her tongue for once. the amusement that she can sense from elektra shuts her mouth, though she finds her voice again when she feels that hint of annoyance. ]

He's the reason you're here. [ she scoffs, her tone dry and low. ] Can't look for devil boy if I'm dead.

[ without another word, she attempts to walk away, yet discovers that it's an impossible endeavor. pain spreads throughout her system, the source of it all at her stomach. she initially dismissed the wound as unimportant. it's hardly the first time that jessica jones has been stabbed. however, now, she starts to grasp that something's amiss. the sharp sting of the slash is far more severe than what she's used to, and even worse, she's not healing. her lack of strength from earlier was only a symptom of a much larger problem.

her hand lifts from her injury, crimson blood staining her fingers. ]

Goddammit.

[ in all honesty, jessica doesn't even weigh that much. it must've been the nice little power boost elektra's gone ahead and earned herself by doing ... something. watching her is rather pathetic, given she knows what's about to happen: jessica will try and walk and only aggravate her wound even further. ]

[ ... which is exactly what happens. ]

[ rather than rush to her aid, elektra observes her with a slight tilt of her head. she has no idea of how to use her powers properly,
but she had read up on empathy once or twice ... and so she focuses, with no hint that she's doing anything at all, on making jessica feel as though she is impenetrable. light on her feet, calm as waves gently lapping on the shore ... ]

[ your wife is a clumsy moron, elektra. thankfully, the other woman comes to her rescue yet again, and jessica can sense her pain dissipating. she licks her lips and concentrates on slowing her frantic heartbeat.

even without her extraordinary endurance, jess suddenly feels ... powerful. she can't explain it, but this sudden surge of emotion makes her wonder. her eyes widen, and she trains her vision on elektra. ]

Was that you?

[ elektra lets out a breath, almost bordering on an exasperated sigh. she has always been a woman of arrogance, born with a golden spoon in her mouth rather than silver. it's the best way to beat the chaste out of herself, and to keep herself far, far away from an organisation she had always run from. and now … it's merely armour. ]

Was what me?

[ the expression on her face says it all: she knows exactly what jessica's talking about. ]

[ elektra natchios is a little shit, knowingly patronizing her like this. then again, so is jessica jones. she snorts in response, as her brow furrows. her wound is still bleeding, so elektra didn't heal her, but it doesn't hurt as much as before. ]

Are you fucking with my head?

[ not quite mind control. at least, it doesn't feel like it, but something akin to that. is her power some form of telepathy? ]

Is that it?

[ elektra has the feeling that perhaps her answer of "yes" — a lie in itself, if she chose to go that particular route — wouldn't leave jessica feeling amused, bemused, or even left musing at all. rather than being difficult, or even aiming to try and intimidate someone she finds to be no threat, she opts for the truth. ]

It isn't mind control. [ a part of her wishes it was. the ease in which she portrays herself, as though she's comfortable with this ability, is all a farce. ] It's empathy. It's emotion based. You're feeling the way you feel because I want you to feel it. Not think it. Whatever you think is up to you.

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closed | all you have is your fire

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