Jesse Pinkman (
hostage) wrote in
maskormenacelogs2014-11-21 03:42 am
And I play dead just to fool you, just to move you.
WHO: Jesse Pinkman, Kotetsu Kaburagi & Hank Schrader
WHERE: Heropa Police Station
WHEN: Afternoon of Monday, November 24
WHAT: Jesus Pinkman performs a miracle, hallelujah.
WARNINGS: Offensive language of all kinds.
WHERE: Heropa Police Station
WHEN: Afternoon of Monday, November 24
WHAT: Jesus Pinkman performs a miracle, hallelujah.
WARNINGS: Offensive language of all kinds.
[Once he's got the car parked, Jesse pops the trunk and hops out to fetch the wheelchair from inside. The car's been swept clean - no drugs, no money, no guns, no risks - but he's still parked a ways down the road to keep it out of Schrader's line of vision. The guy would notice (and mention) that it's well outside Jesse's pay grade, and that's not a headache he needs right now.
Once the wheelchair's set up on the sidewalk, Jesse waves Kotetsu over.]
Um. I guess just follow me with this and be ready to catch me when I drop. It shouldn't take too long. I won't need a hospital or anything, but you'll have to drive us back.

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He nods once at Jesse's instruction, throat feeling a bit too dry for words as he follows after him. Kotetsu definitely looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, and it's probably a good thing for Jesse that he's way too preoccupied to be questioning why they're at the police station to heal someone apparently in such terrible condition that he brought a wheelchair instead of at a hospital. It certainly hasn't occurred to him that this person doesn't know what's about to happen.]
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Chill out, man. It ain't a funeral.
There's something you gotta know, though. About this guy we're healing. See, he's somebody I knew from back home. Somebody who, um... Let's say he don't like me very much and leave it like that. But when he showed up here, I saw what happened to him. He's hurt - paralyzed - from something that happened back home.
I'm trying to fix things between us. I wanna help him walk again. But he might be angry when he sees me. I just wanted to warn you about that. How he sees it, I'm still a junkie fuck-up.
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He doesn't--...ah jeez.
[So evidently he's walking into an even bigger mess than he thought. Still, he can understand, of course. If you have the power to help someone with something like that, of course you'd want to do it, even if it would be a mess. He offers Jesse a very faint grin.]
You're a good kid, Jesse. I'm sure it'll mean a lot to 'im, even if he's not happy about it now.
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When they reach the front desk, Jesse's had enough time to deaden himself and wears a smile for the secretary.]
We're here to see Hank Schrader?
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Of course, anyone with access to the Internet in the short time before the video got taken down might have seen the altercation, but somehow Hank isn't on suspension, and he hasn't been fired. He isn't even sure how much he would have cared this time if that had happened. He'd never say it out loud to the men and women working here, but he thinks this precinct's a joke. Too many damn kids.
Being demoted to dispatch obviously has nothing to do with this.He misses the fed life, which is saying a lot since that's what put him in this wheelchair.When Hank hears who's there for him, he can't even believe his ears. For Pinkman to willingly step foot here takes some balls, but it's also a brilliant chess move. There is nothing Hank could do to him here, no matter how angry, unless Jesse actively attacks him. Not that Hank is gunning to knock the kid to the pavement again; it wasn't as stellar of a feeling as one might have thought. Still, he'd do almost anything to keep from seeing him again this soon. What the hell is the punk planning?
When he rolls out front, he's had enough time to don as guarded of an expression as he can manage, but there's little to completely mask the shrouded glare when he does see that Jesse Pinkman is in fact there...with...some no-name. He keeps enough of a distance so that neither of them can claim immediate threat, but close enough that a conversation wouldn't draw attention.
Assuming anyone with access to YouTube isn't actively staring at them. ]
Got some cojones on ya.
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[Ha ha. He is so funny. But he delivers that line as straight as he can, since Kotetsu's watching, and takes a step toward Hank. For a guy whose back was broken earlier this week, Jesse sure seems to be walking just fine.]
Anyplace more private we can talk? Or is here good?
[Please ignore the guy with the wheelchair who's standing behind him.]
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Yeah, and I'm just takin' a break from the freakshow before I head out for a jog.
[ Hank is openly unimpressed with Jesse's turn-heel behavior, though it's entirely unsurprising. He's around a bunch of cops, and for some reason got another one of his dirtbag friends with him. He's only worth noting because he doesn't look the type that Jesse would normally dick around with, and of course, that wheelchair. It was easy to miss in the first few seconds of seeing red at Pinkman on his turf for no reason other than to presumably badger and antagonize him.
Instinctively, he keeps one hand firmly gripping the arm rest of his chair, brows furrowing together just a touch more. Muscles twitch as he clenches his jaw, but he keeps his tone surprisingly cool.
Again, what is he planning?
In any other case, Hank would tell him to fuck off and tell him right here or get out, but he's painfully aware of how deranged this case is. It may only be a few, but anyone watching closely makes his hackles raise. He's also worried over what Jesse might have to say, considering their history, so it's with a grunt that he'll nod just down the hall. It means they'll have to wade through more cops, but there's a conference room that he had seen was empty when first going by. Despite being demoted and wheel-chair bound, he doesn't seem worried about wordlessly taking Pinkman and his pimp bouncer (what the fuck else?) to an empty room.
The door stay's open, though, and he makes sure to emphasize that he's pointing at that fucking chair and the guy pushing it. If Hank wasn't happy before, he definitely isn't now, because he doesn't know if he's supposed to be offended, worried, or confused. He'll stick with confused. So much so that he can't even remember to apologize to Jesse for mashing him into the sidewalk.
Fucker's somehow walking high and mighty though, ain't he? How the Hell?! ]
So what's the name of this circus act? This supposed to be my date, or you just come to show me where your scrawny ass should be right now? Gloating isn't pretty on you, Pinkman.
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[Which is the honest-to-god truth. He got what he needed out of gloating - that prime YouTube material Hank's sweating over - and now's time for the next play. Jesse doesn't ask Kotetsu to leave them. The guy's here to act as a witness as much as he is getaway driver.
Again, Jesse steps closer, though he keeps his hands where Hank can see them. He's totally unarmed, anyway, and he refrained from wearing any of his usual bulky jackets or hoodies. Anything that might make Schrader nervous.]
The history between you and me, I know we ain't ever gonna be pals. I get that. But we're on the same side now. And I wanna help you.
You felt it, right? Before you hit me. You felt some of that pain ease up.
[Jesse crouches down so that he's at eye level with Schrader. Isn't that humiliating enough?]
I can take all of it. The pain. The paralysis. You can walk outta this room on your own two feet. All you gotta do is shake my hand.
[Now, finally, Jesse glances back to Kotetsu. Vouch for him, man.]
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He did what.
[Definitely a demanding note in his voice, because all Jesse had said was that the guy didn't like him and then he found out he was hurt and wanted to help. But this means he tried to help before. And something obviously went very wrong.]
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He's not touching Pinkman, pointedly keeping his hands right where they are and barely blinking when he leans down. It's easy to forget about the guy behind him again, in this moment, where it takes all of his self control just not to lose it, especially at him talking like this.
He doesn't believe it. Sure, he felt something, but there's no way he believed Pinkman would do anything for him. He might come to the conclusion as to why he would if he gives it any further thought, but before he can, his henchpimp contributes his million dollar thought.
It breaks the tension so suddenly, despite being a serious demand, causing Hank to slap his arm rest with a quiet bark of a chuckle. He could see Jesse was hoping he'd have something to say. Maybe you should fill your friends in a little more before running your pranks, you shit stain.
Doesn't even remotely erase his fury at having this carrot dangled. ]
Sweet sell. Now get the Hell out.
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I get it. You got your pride or whatever. But my conscience won't let me leave you here like this.
Sorry, man. I ain't selling. Or asking.
[Jesse slaps his hand down over Hank's, so close to him when he's at this height. It happens instantaneously from there: something severs in Jesse's spinal cord, and if Kotetsu doesn't move fast, then he'll fall to a heap on the floor.]
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Kotetsu scowls at the man in the wheelchair as he chuckles in response to his demand/question. There's context here he's missing, but all the same, he doesn't have all too charitable thoughts about the kind of person who hurts someone else and laughs about it. Of course, he doesn't get another chance to try to get Jesse's attention; the deed is done, and Jesse crumples (you couldn't have given him ten seconds to actually be ready to catch you?), leaving Kotetsu with barely any time to catch him, especially considering he's still a few feet away with that damn wheelchair.
Which is promptly ditched as he tries to slide in place to catch him, but even then he's not fast enough to cushion his fall before he hits the ground.]
Goddamnit, Jesse...
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[ Jesse acts before Hank can even finish his retort, and whatever thought he'd been having (something along the lines of the coyote and the roadrunner), are completely blinded in the face of what's suddenly offered. Given. Forced.
And what kind of person would he be if he couldn't immediately realize the gravity, and the backlash, that such a gift will lead to? It unfurls on Hank with every millisecond that pain abandons him and legitimate feeling returns. The memories leading up to the injury, including his first assault on Pinkman and up to his most recent and agonizing PT session, bombard him with such a severity and velocity that he feels pinned to the chair. Maybe he can get up and walk right now, but it will take a moment longer for that realization to settle.
Until then he feels torn between understanding what's just happened and straining to make sure Pinkman's still alive for what seems like the millionth time now, breath escaping in heavy puffs as he blinks away his panic. First order, civilian is down. He's trying not to fall out of a chair he could stand up from right now as he barks at the lackey brought in with Pinkman. ]
Don't move him!
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It's nothing, in fact, when tempered by the giddiness he's feeling at having won this round. When Jesse curls up on the floor, it looks like he's in agony - but he's really trying to suppress laughter. Try and make him look like the bad guy now, Schrader. Just try.]
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That door is definitely getting closed before this turns into a circus, although he makes the trip in his wheelchair, for the above-mentioned circus reasons, and...because he doesn't trust that his legs can actually work yet.
Presumably no one important saw Jesse fall. The truth will come out, obviously, when everyone does see Hank walking and understands Jesse's power, and the fact that they walked in here with a wheelchair of their very own, but he cannot deal with all of that at this very moment.
Too busy with meth princes and their fucktard lackeys too dense to know what's actually happening. Too busy with epiphanies and thoughts and concepts. All of which are kept absolutely quiet after his initial order, but his silence could fill the room. ]
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It's okay. [Well, it's not okay, not really, but it's not so dire a situation as Schrader thinks.]
Jesse regenerates. He'll be fine in a few days or so.
[His mouth twists into a frown. He's not sure if he ought to just carry Jesse back to the wheelchair or if it would be better to pull and arm over his shoulder and sort of half-drag him. Both ways are kind of embarrassing probably, but that's your fault for not giving him enough warning to catch you, Jesse. Ultimately he decides on carrying him, slipping one hand under his back and the other under his knees before pulling himself to his feet.]
Helping him up is the whole reason he asked me to come.
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He's - right. I'll be okay.
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Still, it doesn't help how conflicted he feels about this, on several counts. He's pretty sure he wouldn't wish this kind of pain on his worst enemy. All he can do is remember the struggle from beginning until now, with the alternating moments of nothing and agony. Worse was that empty, sinking pit in your stomach and loud voice in your head asking how you can amount to anything when you can't shit into a bucket without help.
But Pinkman won't have to suffer it for long... How long, is the question? He doesn't need to ask why, because he knows, and that's just one more tic on the other list, of reasons to spit on his waste of space. This was a political move, more-so since it's in the middle of the precinct. There's no way Hank can pretend it was something else. Hank can't touch him. Who told him to do this? There's no way Pinkman could have thought of this himself, could he? Could he?
One hand goes to rub at his temple, shielding his furrowed brow for a moment while he thinks. Finally, he glances up with surprisingly calm facade. He should look more grateful, but he's too shaken, and trying impressively hard not to look pissed about needing to be thankful to Jesse Pinkman. ]
Then how're you gonna avoid the circus this time? Not enough Vitamin D?