Too low to dig, I might just touch hell.

[hostage]

WHO: Jesse Pinkman & OPEN
WHERE: Various
WHEN: Throughout September
WHAT: Average day-to-day encounters with Jesse.
WARNINGS: Language, drugs, gore, body horror...

HEROPA - THE PARK ( OPEN )

[Coming off a healing tour of the local hospital's ICU, Jesse heads straight for the park across the street and settles himself on the grass beneath the shade of a willow tree. He's a mess - as he always is after a long round of healing the sick and injured - and doubly so since he's dressed in his rattiest torn jeans and dirty t-shirt combo. He self-reports as homeless on his paperwork, and today he looks the part.

Hands wrapped in gauze from fingertips to shoulder, there's not much Jesse can do while he waits to regenerate. He sprawls out on the grass and stares skyward. Bleeding through his bandages, he probably makes an alarming sight. But he's not unconscious. Just resting.]

NONAH - BEER GARDEN ( OPEN )

[Fresh out of a business meeting with some of his more respectable contacts, Jesse's looking remarkably clean-cut tonight. He's not in a suit, but with his pressed denim jacket and neatly styled hair, he fits in with the young professionals around him. He's not a regular here. He just looks like he could be.

Since he's dining alone, he takes a seat at a communal table around a fire pit and orders one of the fancy overpriced pizzas off the menu, along with the special craft beer the waiter kept pushing on him. His mind isn't really on dinner. He pulls a notepad from his pocket and starts crunching numbers with abstract notes. A few things to jot down before he forgets.]

MAURTIA FALLS - THE STREETS ( OPEN )

[It's the kind of night he used to love. Bass thumping in the club, throngs of revelers bumping and grinding around him, beautiful girls snorting rails off the bar... Nowadays it's overstimulating, and if Jesse could get a headache, he'd have one. Instead the pressure's more discarnate, less tangible, like the air's too heavy. After a few hours, he's having trouble maintaining the necessary smile and the social lubricant of easy conversation. People look to him for charm and entertainment, and when he can't give that to them anymore, that's when it's time to excuse himself.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Jesse swipes a hand across his sweaty forehead before lighting up a cigarette. It's better out here, with the music and shouting muffled behind him. When he exhales, a sigh of relief escapes with the smoke.]

DE CHIMA - THE OFFICES OF PKE ( CLOSED TO MARK VORKOSIGAN )

[Jesse's about five minutes early for their scheduled appointment. The last time they sat down together was in a grimy dive bar, and Mark was going by a different name. This time around, the setting's more professional and so is Jesse. He may not be wearing a tie or carrying a briefcase, but he fits the part of an upstart entrepreneur. He's flying under the radar. That's the whole point of this.

When he's called in, Jesse walks into Mark's office with a notebook tucked under one arm. He smiles as he approaches Mark's desk, offering his free hand.]

Hey. Thanks for seeing me.

Comments

[jacksonian]

Mr. Pinkman.

[ Mark's a brand new guy overall, really - or, really, a guy who's trying out a new persona. Whereas before he'd been fearful, tense, sullen, in this office he exudes smarm, an oily sort of self-confidence. It's not charming or likable. It's not even terribly convincing - he acts more like a pop-culture stereotype of a businessman than he does an actual professional. But at the same time, he's surrounded by very real signifiers of very real wealth: his suit (well-cut), his cufflinks (polished wood with silver trim), his office (tastefully appointed in a sleek Scandanavian style) all speak to having money. Which makes him seem a bit more credible, and which separates him from that kid in the dive bar.

Also: he's quite fat now. No mistaking him for Miles or Gottlieb. Something he takes immense pleasure in.

He shakes Jesse's hand. Not even a sign that he recognizes him from any prior business dealings - since those had been of a rather different sort than these will be. ]

Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water? Something stronger?

[hostage]

[Preferable, as far as Jesse's concerned. The whole point of this is to keep the stink of his criminal business off of his public persona. And though "Peter" wasn't exactly in the same line of work, it's nice to see Mark putting up a confident front, too. Smarmy or not. Actually, the smarm might be a plus.]

I'm good, thanks.

[Jesse settles into one of the chairs, setting his notebook on his lap. Nothing to look at just yet.]

I won't take up too much of your time. Just wanted to shoot around a few ideas.

maurtia falls

[psychofailed]

[There's someone else roaming the streets of Maurtia Falls at this late hour, but for a mostly different reason. Where Jesse takes to the streets to escape the crowds for some space unto himself, Kogami seeks to escape from something quite different: the silence of his apartment at night, now heightened by the departure of Tsunemori, and the loudness inside his head that silence brings as he's left with entirely too much time to think.

Kogami just happens to be passing by when he spots Jesse come out of that club and breathe out that sigh of relief, and although it would be perfectly simple just to ignore him and go on his way, but something drives him to speak up, making an educated guess of sorts.]

There's an old abandoned warehouse building not far from here; it's boarded up, but the fire escape is intact, and you can get to the roof.

[He lets out a puff of smoke from his own cigarette.]

It's a good place for peace and quiet. Nice view of the city, too.

[hostage]

[Jesse turns his full attention to Kogami. He recognizes the guy. They've had drinks before, although it was so long ago now that he wouldn't be surprised if Kogami forgot all about it. Jesse makes it his business to remember.]

Yeah?

[The streets suit him just fine. If it's up to him alone, he's good as long as he gets a break from the crowd. But Jesse suspects Kogami didn't mention that hiding spot just for his benefit. Here's a wanderer looking for company.]

Feel like showing it to me?

heropa

[earnedmystripes]

[Alarming is about right. Kotetsu had originally planned for a brief stroll through the park to enjoy the nice weather, fall chill settling in to the the edge off of Floridian summer, when he'd come across Jesse. For a brief second, he'd almost forgotten and nearly called 911 out of pure reflexive instinct, but he catches himself in time to prevent an honestly embarrassing incident.

Really, he should take it as his cue to just leave before he does something else to make an ass of himself, but somehow, despite the awkwardness between them nowadays, the thought of just walking away and leaving Jesse to suffer by himself until his regeneration finishes up feels wrong, somehow.

But he can't think of anything to say, either, so he just...sits down there, next to Jesse, as if it's not even a thing. It's a nice spot here on the grass, okay, shady and cool and he's gonna take a breather. That's all.]

[hostage]

[With Jesse's eyes fixed on the leaves above and the sky beyond them, he senses that Kotetsu's there but doesn't look at him until Kotetsu's sitting right beside him. Even then, it's only the slightest turn of his head.

Jesse doesn't say anything. His gaze moves up and down Kotetsu, reading his body language briefly, before he redirects his eyes to the tree overhead.

Maybe Kotetsu's just making sure he doesn't bleed to death. He's a decent guy like that. Conversation doesn't have to come into it.]

Heropa, early September sometime

[dirtyredneck]

Not exactly the guy Daryl had been looking for, but the opportunity presented wasn't one he was going to pass up on. Not after having a good hard look at what Jesse supposedly did to earn money and what Dooku implied the man actually had. He stood next to the man, leaned over to block the sunlight and make sure he was in Jesse's line of sight before he smiled a very not-a-nice-smile.]

Did someone finally beat the hell outta you and get it to stick? Or this whole wounded thing a part of some attempt to pretend you ain't a piece of shit?

[hostage]

[Even with Daryl standing over him, Jesse doesn't move.]

I'm a volunteer medic.

[Which, frankly, Daryl can interpret however he wants. Despite everyone's assumptions, Jesse isn't out to prove anything when he does what he does.]

If you're real curious, I'd be happy to hand these over to you.

[The injuries, he means. Daryl surely remembers last time.]

One of 'em was a factory accident. Woulda needed skin grafts. Sound like fun?

MAURTIA FALLS.

[nastygram]

Yeah. Same.

[Darlene accompanies her dry commiseration with a smile. She's leaned up against the wall of the club. One knee bent, the sole of her boot planted against that same wall; other leg straight. Her knee socks are a little droopy, but so what. She's been out for a few hours now.

The night air tastes gross, like city-gross. Heady alleyways and heavy air and cheap liquor and and all of it. Darlene rolls her head back on her shoulders and tips her chin up toward the sky. The streetlights wash out most of the stars.]

It is kind of a shithole in there.

[--Which is one way to start a conversation. Second way is like so: without looking around at him, she flops out one arm, straight, her hand open and waiting.]

Bum a cigarette?

[hostage]

[Despite the rudeness, Jesse's unfazed. He pulls his pack out and hands over a cigarette, then turns to offer her a light, too. Ever the gentleman.]

Dunno why I keep coming back. Habit, I guess.

[Whether she's looking at him or not, Jesse fixes his eyes on Darlene. He tends to remember faces.]

Don't think I seen you around before, though.

heropa, early sept

[neverdied]

[The blood is a strong draw, wafting across the park and pulling Jack away from his idle people glaring. He doesn't really question where it's coming from or why, just knows that it's enough of a risk to at least check out. Easy food opportunities are not to be missed, especially not when in a new world with nothing in the way of an easy meal ticket or steady supply, plus a Government telling him to behave himself and be a 'hero'. Helpful as fuck authorities, as always.

He homes in one those blood-soaked bandages and doesn't really pay attention to the person attached to them, and it's only thanks to them being in the middle of a public park that he even has the decency to nudge the body with a foot first.

If Jesse looks homeless, Jack doesn't exactly paint a better picture in worn jeans, hoody and t-shirt with several days worth of stubble and a general look of tiredness cutting through that sharp but curious stare.]

[hostage]

...Why's everybody always do that?

[Oh look, it's not dead. Jesse turns his head to look up at the big fellow, wrinkling his nose.]

I mean, wouldn't checking a pulse make more sense? Or just like putting a hand up to their nose, if you don't wanna touch it? But nah, everybody just wants to kick a corpse. Nevermind they could just be passed out.

NONAH

[alcheregis]

Haen has become a semi-frequent patron of this establishment since being relocated to Nonah, because she likes to atmosphere and it's a good place to pick up higher-paying clients for her genework. In fact more than a few people seem to note her arrival, offering tips of glasses in her direction.

She's previously assured them that she's discreet, one of the hallmarks of being a genessi. After all, some of those genework projects she's done were of a sensitive nature.

Anything to make her clients happy, after all.

She takes a seat at the communal fire pit with a beer she didn't have to pay for, and smiles at Jesse. "Is the pizza good?"

[hostage]

Jesse's been pretty absorbed in his work for the past few minutes, but he looks up with a smile at the sound of Haen's voice. "Oh, hey," he says, flipping his notepad shut.

He reaches over and pushes the pizza closer to her. He's barely touched it, though from the little taste he's had, it's decent but not worth the price. "You wanna try it? I probably ordered too much. I wasn't even hungry."

. maurtia falls

[mirrordarkly]

[he didn't kill this man.

Drink and poor health got to him long before the Corinthian's blade, exposure finishing the job in the wee hours of the morning. Dead for less than a full day, hidden from discovery by the dumpster he'd built his meager shelter against. Practically fresh, by the nightmare's standards. Fresh enough.

Jesse will hear the Corinthian before he sees him, a scrape against slick pavement and the knock of his elbow on the dumpster - the position makes it difficult to maneuver, and this is delicate work. Even then, only the heels of his black boots and the curve of his back against a thin shirt are visible, blocked from view by the rusting, steel container.

At least, unless Jesse moves closer.]

[hostage]

[By this point, Jesse should really have learned to look the other way. But no. No, curiosity gets the better of him, and once he hears that noise behind the dumpster, Jesse just has to investigate.

Once he spots the boots, Jesse leaps to the conclusion of blowjob followed by maybe puking? The first one would be none of his business, but the second might actually be something he can help with, so he takes another step closer.

...Aaaaaaand that's a guy snacking on a corpse. Jesse may not be able to see his face, but he can see enough.

He turns on his heel. Not running, but walking away at a reasonably swift pace. He gives no thought to whether he's being loud or quiet about it. He just really, really doesn't want to get involved.]

Nonah

[lightinside]

[This is the second time that Laurel has been in Nonah but she never noticed this place before. Laurel isn't expecting anyone so she's by the fire pit, currently nursing a non-alcoholic beer while she waits for her food to arrive.

The sound of a pen scribbling against paper draws Laurel out of her thoughts as she turns to notice Jesse poring over a notepad. Laurel doesn't know him but she had vowed to do her best to make acquaintances while she was here. Maybe those acquaintances could become potential friends. Allies, even.]

Work never ends does it?

[Said with a slight smile and a gesture to the notepad.]

[hostage]

[So absorbed in his work, Jesse appears to have only just now realized he has company. He looks up with a flash of a smile before ducking his head sheepishly. Yeah, a drug kingpin's work is never done.]

I'm being That Douchebag right now, huh?

[He flips the notepad shut.]

I swear I'm not usually this nerdy.

nonah

[coppelganger]

[ Sarah's been MIA for the past few weeks, both due to her porting out and because she's been staying at Sarissa's since she came back and pretty much avoiding everyone but Clone Club. When she sees Jesse eating alone, she doesn't hesitate to slip into the seat across from him, even though this place isn't one of her usual haunts. After all, he is her boss (among... other things), and she at least owes him an explanation. ]

Hey, stranger. You look handsome.

[hostage]

[He's been worried about her. She was in a bad state the last time they saw each other, and then she up and disappeared, and now she's back but there's a creepy new evil twin hanging around. It's a lot to deal with, and all of it without a heads-up.

But he isn't angry with her. He flips his notepad shut as she approaches, slipping into an easy smile.]

Hey, beautiful. Long time no see.

(Heropa Park) if it's too late, please feel free to ignore!

[dualismum]

[ even if Sasaki wasn't a policeman, if he saw someone laid on and bleeding all over, he'd still approach, but no matter what, it's also part of his duty. when Sasaki hears someone commenting about a "dead man" and decides to investigate only to find...

oh, isn't that Jesse?

Who probably doesn't recognize/know/remember Sasaki, but it doesn't matter, honestly. He approaches, a worried expression on his face ]

Hi- do you need help? [ of course he does, he is bleeding ]

not at all!

[hostage]

Nope.

[Jesse does recognize him, actually. The former Ken Kaneki. He remembers when Sasaki explained his existence on the network, too. He pays attention to these things, even when he doesn't outright acknowledge them.]

Don't worry about the blood. It's not as bad as it looks.

heropa

[incogneto]

[ It's a balmy late afternoon and Erik feels like taking a detour through the park on his way home from work. And on his way, he spots Jesse, and then stands over him to block out the sun. ]

The hospital's not too far from here.

[hostage]

[Well, well, well. If it isn't Erik Lehnsherr blocking his light. Jesse sits up as soon as that shadow casts over him, letting out a short laugh.]

I know. I just came from there.

new house!

[shittybirthday]

[ It's been a rough few weeks. Really, 'rough' is an understatement, and if Joel has been anything over these past few weeks, it's distant, withdrawn, unavailable. The moment he realised Ellie was gone again - gone for good, again - he took off on his own for a while without much word to Jesse. For a good three or so weeks, he was practically uncontactable. No sign of him at home, no sign of him at work, most the calls he received went straight to voicemail and most the texts he received went unanswered.

And then, without warning, he returned. Acted like nothing has changed. Like Ellie was never here. Immediately threw himself head-first into keeping himself busy at the bar and renovating things at the new house. Truthfully, he's been working himself to the bone to keep his mind occupied.

It's late afternoon now. Since mid-morning, he's been working on a small concealed room that he's been installing under the stairs; a place to hide cash and weapons. Just in case. The floor is littered with sawdust, screwdrivers, hammers, tool bags, other building tools, plaster dust, rough blueprints that Joel has measured up and scribbled out on several sheets of paper.

The sound of his electric drill reverberates loudly throughout the house as he fixes shelving to the wall inside the new alcove. Joel is crouched down on his knees, his huge frame seeming to fill the whole space. Once the drill has sunk the final screw into the shelving wood, Joel pauses drilling to slouch back against the wall for a brief break. ]

Jesse! [ Calling out Jesse's name, wherever Jesse is in the house. He pushes up the protective goggles from his eyes and runs a sawdust-caked hand over his tired, sweaty, sawdusted face. ]

[hostage]

[Jesse's upstairs, not asleep but sprawled out on the bed he shares with Joel. He's been there for the better part of the day, answering the occasional call from one of his lieutenants but mostly just lost in thought. The loss of Ellie is just one of many problems weighing on his mind, yet it's the one he feels most acutely when he's near Joel. It still feels heavy. Even when he's burying himself in work, his heart feels heavy.

He looks up at the sound of Joel's voice and rolls off the bed, stepping out onto the stairs to investigate. Peeking over the rail as he climbs down, he calls out:]

What's up?

heropa; harley's apartment

[itistolaugh]

[ After this conversation, Harley makes some halfhearted excuses and clears her afternoon. It's only a staff meeting, and everyone agrees those go much smoother when she skips.

She breezes through her door with one bag of mystery takeout and one bag of liquor. ]

Honey, I'm ho-ome!

[ She sets the bags on the coffee table and starts unpacking. ]

I went to this little hole in the wall that doesn't have menus in English, so I dunno what I got, but it smells good and they said it goes with whiskey so I got that too.

[hostage]

[Jesse's sprawled out on the couch, too comfortable to sit up and greet her properly, though he tips his chin back and gives her a lazy smile. He looks a bit like the sun just came up and filled the room, and he's looking right at her.]

Exactly what I wanted. You're good at this.