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

[neverdied]

Other option is that you're just fucking crazy.

[He's dropping it because he knows that look, he's given that look thousands of times before.]

[hostage]

That's probably right.

[No, well, it... definitely is.]

[neverdied]

[Knew it, and also totally relatable.]

How long before you're healed up?

[hostage]

It's pretty bad, so... a few hours, maybe.

[He is regrowing most of the flesh in his arms.]

[neverdied]

Huh.

[Similar to his own, he thinks, not that he'll be announcing that in a hurry. This world may be more accepting of powers, but Jack's too used to keeping his immortality hidden away to avoid witch hunts and the curious.]

You're not even the first guy I've met that heals quickly.

[hostage]

Yeah, there's a few of us.

[Though the others seem to avoid this type of situation, because they're smarter than Jesse.]

[neverdied]

[Jack would definitely avoid any situation that had no personal game. Still standing by the assumption that Jesse's crazy.]

Could you do this back home? In your world?

[hostage]

[God, he wishes he could.]

Nah. Just a regular old nothing back home.

[neverdied]

Hn. Then why are they picking nothings to be heroes?

[This is a good thing, he considers, easier for him to blend in with the rest of them even if people do know he's an imPort. When everyone is special around here, no one is, and that suits him just fine.]

[hostage]

Because the government doesn't pick us. Lachesis does. Fate, the goddess, the AI in the Porter... Whatever you wanna call it. The government doesn't control it and they don't choose who shows up with what power. It's all Lachesis. And nobody's got a clue why she picks who.

[neverdied]

Lachesis...

[He perks up just slightly at that because he sure as hell knows that name. Doesn't know her personally and isn't even sure she existed in his world, but Gods, myths and legends were always so hard to differentiate where he was from.]

She calls the shots? Good. Better than the Government.

[Boooooo, Governments.]

[hostage]

Oh, is she a friend of yours?

[Jesse's mostly being sarcastic, but he does find that to be an interesting reaction. Maybe the only time he's ever seen someone recognize the name.]

[neverdied]

[The question gets him freezing for just a second, staring with some confusion as he tries to decipher if that's a joke. It seems to take longer than it should to work it out, but then he's dropping his gaze and shaking his head.]

No. I don't know her. [He wishes he did. :( He sounds just vaguely disappointed.]

[hostage]

[Oh. The dude answered that seriously.]

What about her sisters?

[This is not a human he's speaking to. Jesse has decided that much.]

[neverdied]

[If Jesse spends any length of time around this guy, he'll eventually find he takes the weirdest shit seriously sometimes. It's not always easy to decipher between the two when his life is completely ridiculous and a joke already.]

Nope. [Still vaguely disappointed, even if he'd rather not spend too much time around deities.] Are they here too?

[hostage]

Maybe. We're not sure.

[Though Jesse's no expert on the deep mythology stuff. His contribution in that investigation was mostly his power augmentation.]

So what are you?

[He might as well ask.]

[neverdied]

Uh?

[What kind of question is that? So rude. And yet, not the first time he's been asked it. Usually it's more dramatic though, as he stands there riddled in bullets or arrows or sword slashes and they cower beneath him begging for mercy, not... sat in a park idly conversing.]

imPort. Human. Normal...? [Is he answering this right?!]

[hostage]

Not a vampire?

[His first guess. Vampires can be super old. They probably chilled with goddesses on the regular.]

I ain't judging.

[neverdied]

[Vampire? Of all the things to pick, he picks vampire?

Jack just opts to sigh heavily, a slow inhale and hefty exhale that covers a whole stretch of silence. He's not even sure how to answer that, because technically? Yes. But he's only a 'vampire' because it was a label given by people who couldn't understand. How else to explain random deaths and gruesome murders other than assume it was a mythical monster.]

No.

Not really.

[hostage]

What's that mean, "not really"?

[Ghoul? Demon? Something with a name Jesse hasn't heard yet? Plenty of ancient mythical creatures have circled him.]

[neverdied]

It means we just met.

[And that Jack appreciates some level of privacy, at least until he knows more about his company.

He realises it doesn't seem to matter, not in this world, where every imPort has their own story and the Government appears less inclined to drag you away for testing the second you tell the public you're 'special'. Privacy has just become a habit and something he craves.]

[hostage]

Whatever. I don't really care, anyway.

[It doesn't get much weirder than hanging out with Satan or Death herself.]

[neverdied]

Okay.

[That's... somewhat refreshing to hear.]

You don't care if I'm a vampire or not?

[hostage]

Nah. Long as you're polite about it.

[neverdied]

Huh. What counts as polite? Eating people isn't usually considered polite.

[Not that he eats people!!!!!!!!1 He's just curious, is all.]