maskormenacelogs | Too low to dig, I might just touch hell.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He, uh - He has a condition. Brittle bones. From a birth defect. I want you to figure out a way to make him better.

He was born that way?

[Jesse gnaws on his lower lip for a moment, considering it.]

I mean, I can't always guarantee it with stuff like that. Sometimes I can fix it, sometimes I can't. If there's pain, I can fix the pain. If he breaks a bone, I can fix the bone. But sometimes a body's just the way a body is.

My blood, though... Even if I can't fix him completely, he'll stay strong as long as he's taking it.

[ Mark shakes his head firmly. ]

It's not a genetic defect, though. It's teratogenic. Pre-birth damage from chemical exposure. His genes are fine - he's programmed genetically to be full-strength, full height.

[ Don't I know that far too well. ]

You can fix that, can't you?

[Jesse can only frown thoughtfully. The truth is, he doesn't know. Sometimes something isn't wrong with somebody. Sometimes it's just part of who they are.]

I can try.

Well - try. [ And then, a little awkwardly - ]

And...don't tell him that - I was the one who asked you to.

Why not?

[ Why not? Mark struggles for a moment to find a reason that doesn't sound stupid. Finally, he manages something close to the truth, sort of - ]

He'd...read a lot into it.

You don't think maybe he'll put it all together anyway when some guy randomly shows up to heal him for no reason?

Uh -

[ Good...point. Mark rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, then says: ]

He has a lot of people interested in his welfare. People like Miles. There are a lot of people who might have sent you to help him.

[ There. He even managed not to sound very spiteful or jealous. ]

He'll probably say something to 'em.

[He doesn't need to walk Mark through this, does he?]

I don't wanna be part of some game you two are playing with each other, man. Family shit gets messy.

[ He looks up, a hot anger flashing in his face - ]

His health isn't a game.

[ And then he flushes slightly, embarrassed by just how sentimental that was. He follows it up with an awkward shrug, a glance to the side. ]

Look, he - considers himself my older brother. [ An awkward pause. ] And...I...guess...I don't...reject that completely. [ Ugh. ] Look, do you have a brother?

Yeah, I do.

[ A rough shrug. ]

Then you know how it is.

I wouldn't lie to him.

[If he sounds like he's judging you right now, Mark, it's because he is.]

[ His eyes flick up again, and there's a fearful sort of uncertainty on his face. ]

You, uh...You wouldn't?

[Apparently it's now time to teach clones how to be brothers.]

I'd say, "Hey, Jake. You're really sick and I'm worried about you, so I asked this guy to help you. It's cool if you don't wanna do this, but I really think we should give it a try."

That sounds stupid, though.

[ His shoulders hunch a little. ]

And he wouldn't do it if I said that to him, either.

Because he never wants help. Especially not from me.

[ He slumps down further in his seat. ]

He always wants to do everything by himself. Or maybe just show off how he can do everything by himself.

[This is so dumb. Jesse sighs, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.]

Look, I'm not gonna do something he wouldn't want. If you want this to happen, you gotta get his permission first.

You don't understand. He'll do it if you come to him. He just won't do it if he thinks it's from me.

That still means he doesn't want it to happen. And when he finds out you were behind it, my ass is on the line for it.

[ An incredulous cough. ]

Yeah, because you know. Miles. He's someone to be afraid of.

I ain't afraid of him. I'm afraid of bad PR. I don't need to get on somebody's bad side just 'cause you're too much of a pussy to talk to your own damn brother, and I seriously don't need another investigation into how I'm using my powers.

[Because the whole RISE fiasco was bad enough, thanks.]

[ Through grit teeth, he corrects him: ]

Progenitor.

[ Which is disingenuous, because with the right people, in the right company, Mark will - shyly, and with hesitation - name Miles his brother. But not right now. In frustration, he goes on: ]

Look. They created me to kill Miles. I don't want him to lose this opportunity because he thinks this is some latent programming leaping up and gets suspicious.

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