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]

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

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

[hostage]

Asking for permission first? Like, at the very least. Money or favors is even better. You know, the usual stuff you expect for an exchange of goods and services.

[neverdied]

[Really, Jesse. Really?]

I can't see many people saying yes to being murdered.

[hostage]

Don't be a fatass. You can eat somebody without eating all of 'em. And even if you did need to eat a whole body, there's people out there who could get that for you.

[neverdied]

I'll be sure to tell that to any vampires I meet.

[Fat ass? Rude. Just because he's not some little sparkly fanged dickbag who can survive off a teaspoon of blood. Stop blood shaming him, Jesse.]

You know many vampires?

[hostage]

There's a couple I feed pretty much on the regular.

[neverdied]

... Feed how?

[There is something seriously wrong with this kid if he's freely offering out his healing powers to randoms and letting vampires feast on him.

The fact that there's ACTUAL VAMPIRES here is interesting as hell too.]

[hostage]

[Jesse wrinkles his nose. What, this guy needs a step-by-step walkthrough of the process? God... Jesse holds up his bandaged arm and mimes slitting his wrist.]

It ain't complicated.

[neverdied]

Okay. [Nevertheless, Jack's staring at those bandaged wrists and blinking slowly. This is a lot to take in. And also suuuuper useful to remember, even if he has no intention of seeking help with his 'issue' just yet. He's managed for thousands of years without relying on some kid to keep him fed... except... y'know, all those interns he's previously relied on to bring him steady supplies of donor blood, but shut up, that's different!!]

You need help.

... Mentally.

[hostage]

No shit.

[Jesse drops his arm with a shrug.]

[neverdied]

[More steady staring, because Jack seems to do a lot of that. Why converse when you can just stare forever at someone and wait for death to come?!

But then he speaks, a single word but one that could speak volumes.]

Jack.

[He's given a name. That's pretty much a brotherly hug in his books. Jesse is damaged goods, that means he's probably good people.]

[hostage]

[Awww. Friends.]

Jesse.

[He's not entirely sure why letting on that he's totally out of his mind was the key to friendship here, but he'll take it.]

[neverdied]

[Don't question it, just let it happen.]

Hi.

[Making friends is so hard, especially when hanging out with them just makes you want to eat them, and also that they die after only a few decades. It's like pets; you can only deal with them dying so many times before you decide not to get another. At least with this world Jack thinks he may not be around long enough to see everyone die.]

You're not new.

[hostage]

[Plus they're all immortal anyway.]

You're right. I was one of the first ones here.

[Which maybe(?) explains why he gives so few fucks about anything.]

[neverdied]

[He knows that feeling all too well. Been there, done that, no fucks were given.]

How long ago was that?

[hostage]

Almost three years.

[neverdied]

Three? [That's not so bad, he thinks. He's spent longer time in solitary confinement. Then again, he supposes three years is a big chunk for a human...]

ImPorts are pretty new...

[Still a lot of adjusting to do for the world. Explains some of the odd receptions the locals have given him.]

[hostage]

There were others before us. But this current batch, yeah. We're pretty new.

[It's a long time to some people. Not Jesse, though. Maybe because he actually likes it here. The time's flown by.]

[neverdied]

So.

You know things.

[A guy who's been here that long must've learnt a thing or two about how this world works. Useful to have around, at the very least.]

[hostage]

You could say that. I know about as much as we're allowed to know.

[And some stuff they're not allowed to know.]

[neverdied]

Huh. [Very useful indeed.]

I got here last week.

[hostage]

I kinda got that feeling. The whole lost puppy look you got.

[He's joking. Dude looks like a serial killer.]

[neverdied]

[Such accurate assumptions Jesse is making.]

Yeah. All alone. Scary stuff.

[Said in the least concerned tone humanly imaginable.]

[hostage]

You're gonna be okay, big guy.

[neverdied]

[At least someone cares.]

I'll manage. You did. [And Jesse looks like a twelves year old with a beard.]