maskormenacelogs | AGE PLOT SHENANIGANS

Huh?

[Jesse looks up when he hears his name, but he sure as fuck doesn't recognize the fat bald dude who just said it.]

[ That is definitely Jesse Pinkman. That doesn't mean he isn't losing his mind, but at least it isn't as outlandish for him to wonder what kind of mutant bullshit could be going on here. The why is the problem here, but when does anything make sense in this America? ]

You okay?

[ The kid looks more confused than Hank does. Aw hell, is he high? Is this some kind of magic drug? Fuck that. ]

You know where you are?

[Is this guy a cop? He's asking cop questions right now. Jesse can practically hear the next round of questions leading up to: What drugs have you taken?]

Yo, no offense, but who the hell are you?

Seriously?

[ Well that answers another question, though not the first two. Hank is busy trying to figure out what is going on and somehow not get annoyed at having to give a fuck about Jesse Pinkman. On duty or not, here or in Heropa, he's always a cop and he can't pretend otherwise. Jesse either has to be higher than a kite not to even recognize him of all people, or somebody's memory wiped him. The only person he knows about with those kinds of powers are Emma Frost, but that makes as little sense as anything else that's crossed his mind.

He just hasn't been here long enough to expect this shit, all right? ]

My name's Hank Schrader, I'm an imPort with the Heropa Police Department. Now are you going to answer me? Can you tell me what day it is? Are you on something?

[Heropa? Where the hell is Heropa? How'd he get out of Albuquerque? Is "imPort" supposed to mean something to him?]

You saying you're like a rent-a-cop?

[ Shit damn. He wanted a funnel cake. That was all he wanted. Said plate of funnel cake is now tossed onto the table in disgust as he reaches into his jacket pocket to check his communicator. By now he figures if weird things are happening to others then it should show up on the network soon, if it's not already. Until then he knows, he'll have to treat this as an isolated incident. ]

Sure feels like it these days, now eat some cake and shut up for a sec.

[ If he isn't going to be useful and answer the damn questions.

It's practically radio silence on the communicator, at least what he can see so far. Everyone must be too busy celebrating or...? Now he'll start looking around and trying to spot or listen for anybody else acting odd. A scream would be a clue, maybe. He's nervous, he doesn't know how to proceed here. He'd prefer to walk away. ]

Hey, let me see your wrist. Don't get weird, just pull up your damn sleeve.

[Jesse's not about to turn down free food. He's a teenage boy, for Christ's sake. He tears off a piece of funnel cake and chews on it while the cop checks out his PDA or whatever the fuck that is.

At the reminder about his wrist, Jesse perks up and replies around a mouthful of cake:]

You know something about this?

[He holds up his wrist, showing off the weird tattoo.]

Some Twilight Zone shit, right?

Goddamn, you have no idea, kid.

[ No fucking idea, and Hank can't resist snickering at that with a good-natured cluck of his tongue. Quieter, with more of a hiss, he continues while pacing a few steps away from the table again to glance around. ]

No idea...

[ Ah damn, if something weird's happening, he better check on Walt. But then just as he's about to text the men, he hesitates, aware of Pinkman being there. If the situation at the Swear-In was awkward, this could be...unbearable. With a tsk he holds off another minute to think it through. If Walt's in danger, he'd be smart enough to figure shit out and look for his brother-in-law before long, anyway.

This stoner punk? Fuck. The realization of this responsibility immediately grounds him, sucking any lingering humor out of his expression and tone as he turns back around to glare at Jesse stuffing his face. Maybe he can just take him to the school and throw him on their door...but if they're involved with Pinkman's other business in any way, is Hank really cold enough to deliver him to their influence when he's this young and (possibly) ignorant? He needs to find out just how old he thinks he is, and Hank can figure out any priors from there. ~~Not like he's ever stalked Jesse Pinkman or anything.~~ ]

All right, crash course. Somehow you've gotten your memory wiped, but you should know where you are right now, which is Virginia.

[ And shrunk, but bothering him with that seems like unnecessary information in what's already likely to make him flee like a rabbit. Hank's prepared for that. ]

That tattoo you got's something the government put on you, and you're an imPort. [ A pause. A cringe. Lingo a teenage boy might jump on... ] ...Like a superhero. This is also something you normally know, because you're an insufferable prick about it.

Edited 2015-03-28 09:51 (UTC)

[Hey, man, what did he ever do to you??? He's pretty sure he's never an insufferable prick to anyone. His friends like him! But - okay, maybe the police, not so much.

Jesse's not as excited about the superhero thing as Hank probably expects. He glances at the tattoo again, then scoffs.]

Okayyyy... Where's the camera? You're punking me.

[ Well at least with that level of cynicism, there's hope for him yet. Maybe he's at least sober. But Hank is losing such patience. Such patience he is losing.

He is not turning tricks just to make this shitbird a believer. ]

If the next words outta your mouth aren't your name and the year, I'm taking you somewhere else to talk. Somewhere you don't get funnel cake. Are we speaking the same language yet?

Edited 2015-03-28 10:17 (UTC)

[The fuck, man? Fine.]

Jesse Pinkman, 2001.

Edited (math is hard) 2015-03-28 10:19 (UTC)

[ That gets a grunt and nod, not giving any shits about using that as often as he needs to here if it helps him in any way. Pinkman barely deserves any rights, and only then because it's the law. Only.

What the hell is the law pertaining to brainwashed gremlins, though? He's already a blossoming kingpin and he don't even know it, ain't that adorable. How consistent is the memory, though? ]

You know who Walter White is?

[This line of questioning is getting increasingly weird.]

My... chem teacher..? At Wynne.

[ Then Hank doesn't have to be incredibly uncomfortable, confused, and irritated by his lonesome. Misery loves company. ]

Yeah. Okay so not all your marbles are gone, good to know. He's my brother-in-law, and he's around here somewhere. You think he'd be involved in punking you?

Check your pockets. You should have something on you, like a phone. You got clues. You even got powers, though not the kind you'd probably want. No Hulking out. You can heal.

[This all still sounds like bullshit, but sure. He'll check his pockets.

He does find that thing - the thing that looks nothing like a phone, but a lot like the PDA that Detective Dickhead was just looking at.

He also finds a wallet, which he's much more interested in, because it's not his wallet. Not the wallet he remembers having yesterday. He unfolds it carefully because he can already feel it's fat with cash and he doesn't want to lose any.

Credit cards with his name on it and a... Florida driver's license. With a photo of someone that looks like he could be an older brother. With a shaved head and something wrong about him behind the eyes. Something only Jesse recognizes because he looks in the mirror every day and this isn't what he sees.]

No, this isn't...

[Happening. He didn't wake up today and lose ten years of his life. This is actually starting to scare him.]

[ Oh boy, he gets to witness someone else's existential crisis now. This should feel a lot sweeter than it does, watching Pinkman start to actually panic. It doesn't. He looks too young, and it nags him.

Even more uncomfortable now, he brushes his thumb against his nose before nodding. ]

'Fraid so. It's not as bad as you're thinking, though. [ It's worse. ] You're everybody's favorite guy. Stellar citizen. Gentle hero. The insufferable kind.

So as soon as we can find one of your best buds, they can tell you all about it and take you home, and I can figure out what the hell's going on here. I'm thinking you aren't the only one.

[If he's everyone's favorite gentle hero, then why does the cop hate him so much? Is it like a law vs. vigilantes thing? Wait - but this whole premise is insane. He's not a superhero with powers and shit. He's just... He's just a kid from Albuquerque.

Without another word, Jesse pockets both the PDA and the wallet, turns, and starts walking away.]

Hey!

[ Wait, what's he doing? Jesus, if the kid wants to go off and get lost in Virginia, let him. Sure he doesn't even know how to use the porter, and he's obviously in shock, but.

Fuck. ]

Hey, hold it! [ It takes only a few quick strides to catch up to him and cut him off. ] I think you need to sit down or something. If you're in a big hurry, shit's officially checked off as weird, so we need to get you to a hospital or back to Heropa, but you're not wandering the streets alone right now.

[ Who knows if kidnappings and bombs are next. Not a long shot anymore.

Which means he needs to contact Walt and check on his status before actually taking the Porter anywhere, but he's worried Jesse will just walk off if he looks away again. He's not sure if he's invested enough in Jesse's well-being to keep chasing him down. Is this the universe testing him? Again? ]

[What's with this guy?]

I don't need a hospital, okay? I need the 66 or the 11 or whatever bus is gonna get me back to Margo Street before dinner. That's what I need.

[He's trying to sound big and tough but the facade doesn't hold when his voice is breaking like this. He's not 27. He's just a kid, and his aunt's going to be worried about him.]

[ No one knows trying to act tough better than Hank, and that he can deal with. He can't deal if Pinkman starts freaking out, or even worse, crying. Definitely not, and that's not just the fear of camera phones. That's him not being a completely shitty person that likes watching kids cry. ]

Yeah yeah, and I get that, but you aren't gonna find it here. Look—

[ He'll jerk his head to the side, in the actual direction of the street if that's really where he wants to go, just so he can get a peek at a hover car or two. While these shocks aren't pretty, it's better than Hank standing over him trying to talk him out of it. He'll probably seem intimidating at the least, crazy at best, no matter how he phrases things. ]

I know where you're trying to go, kid, and you can't go there right now. [ This couldn't be more awkward, as he claps his hands together while clearing his throat, stopping short of an apology. ] I mean it's not— It's just not really an option right this second, okay, but you're safe. I mean I can take you somewhere safe, and you'll figure this out. Hell, you did it once, and you did it like a damn pro, okay? You're gonna be fine.

Edited 2015-03-28 12:44 (UTC)

[Jesse turns to get a look at the road. From a distance, he hadn't been able to tell the difference, but those - those are definitely not normal cars. They're flying. They're flying like it's Back to the fucking Future.

His shoulders sag as it all starts to sink in. Seeing is believing, right? He can't deny what's in front of his own eyes, beyond admitting that maybe he does need a hospital. Drugs would be the only reasonable explanation.

Powers, huh? Healing, the guy had said? Jesse turns back to him.]

...You got one of these, too?

[He holds up his wrist. The tattoo.]

You said you were an imPort, right? Then that means you got a superpower? I wanna see it.

[ He'd already decided he wasn't going to humor someone like Pinkman with his powers, but suddenly he's got this teenager who (presumably) has no idea what a total shitbag he is yet, and who actually might miss his family and who Hank is now responsible for.

And, really, Hank owes him. He owes him a lot, and there's never been any opportunity to pay him back, which is something Pinkman understood. Feeling like he's been under Jesse, always a step behind, has been an indignity to top everything else, and he could never vocally complain to anyone. If anything he's had to make a truce. This could be a chance to actually get ahead, and the best part is all he has to do is...not be a complete dick.

This has nothing to do with the fact that he'd just feel bad if a kid turned up dead, or worse, from his neglect. ]

Fine, fine.

[ Most of what he's learned so far has just been practical application to objects and surfaces. He hasn't been able to take it to many different levels, but frankly he hasn't really needed to yet, and a lot of his thoughts have been otherwise preoccupied. He's wary using any feats of strength around the kid. Doesn't need one more of Pinkman's white knights to pop out of nowhere right now of all times, and he doesn't need to be fucking with city property, either, so that limits things.

While keeping the kid in his peripheral, he'll wander away from the street to kick around a fence and tree for something useful. He's not looking for diamonds here, just a broken piece of concrete will do. He manages to find a dark brown rock (hematite but who cares in Virginia) that's no bigger than his thumb. He suspects a lot of these were deliberately put here just for the park.

Tossing it from one hand to the other, he'll head back over, seriously not believing he's bothering with this. ]

Favorite animal? Hobby? [ ...that isn't drugs. ] Superhero?

[Jesse watches Hank all the while, wondering what the hell he's doing over there, digging around in the dirt. Maybe the guy's just going to do some magic tricks or something. If that's the case, he's an idiot if he thinks Jesse would fall for it. He's not five.

But Jesse gives him the benefit of the doubt for now, only because the payoff will be amazing if superpowers are real. Somehow. Flying cars are a thing here, so why not?

When Hank returns, Jesse curiously eyes the rock he's juggling. Is this a game? If he answers all the questions, does something cool happen?]

Dogs. Skating. Spider-man.

[ Predictable enough answers, though he actually wouldn't have guessed 'dogs'. Not sure what he would have guessed, but something ridiculous. He's grateful, because he's not exactly an artist and he doesn't have a lot to work with already.

All he needs to really do is visualize, the science basic enough to him in this particular bracket of interest. He'll go back through the list, closing his palm over it once and then spreading his fingers to showcase a tiny little figure crouched down just like Spider-Man would, though the details are so small one would need to look closely to see it's not just a man. Hank doesn't give him that much opportunity, as he tosses it to his other hand and when it's showcased in that palm, it's the shape of a skateboard, with tiny little wheels and everything. Once more he hides it in his hand, and then it's tossed to Jesse.

If caught, Jesse will be holding a tiny labrador, the size only slightly bigger now due to the hollow inside. ]

Give him a name and he might even do tricks.

[ Not joking, he can make the dog run around his palm if he wants. Ain't that cute. ]

[Jesse's so mesmerized, he almost doesn't catch the thing when it's tossed at him. He only barely manages to keep from dropping it. Definitely just a magic trick, right? He holds the tiny dog up to examine it closely in his palm.]

Chopper.

AGE PLOT SHENANIGANS

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