maskormenacelogs | open | and I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn

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open | and I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn

WHO: Jessica Jones and You
WHERE: Various places in Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Late March to early April
WHAT: A few weeks in the life of Jess. (Essentially, a catch-all log.)
WARNINGS: Swearing, violence, alcoholism, and questionable life choices. Mentions of PTSD with regard to rape and sexual assault. Please see here for more details.

one | your friendly neighborhood liquor store

[ fuck this goddamn place. fuck their mind control bullshit and their ghosts of christmas past crap. fuck their random choices as to which imPorts stay and which leave. fuck their sick desire to make her suffer.

it's been a long month, and each disaster is a constant reminder of what's waiting for her back home — how much she misses trish, her adoptive sister who visited her as a literal phantom. how much she longs for luke, wondering how he would react if he were here. how much she detests kilgrave, the bastard who's six feet under but lives on in her head.

there's no remedy for the storm raging in her mind. jess relies on what she always does — the sweet, numbing relief of cheap alcohol. some days are easier than others, but today? today blows. stumbling outside of a liquor store, she crashes into a pile of trash bags. god, she feels nauseous. the bile in the back of her throat rushes up, and without warning, she vomits on the ground. #classy ]

two | around town

[ she's fine. just peachy. it's one of her better days. she's got a case she's working on. nothing major, another cheating spouse. one thing that never changes, no matter the dimension — most people are selfish assholes.

it's late at night, and jessica is trailing her target among a small crowd of people. she tries to avoid most of them, rolling her eyes as one or two bump into her with an angry glare. but then, some douchebag walking past her tells her to smile. her mind flashes to a painful memory. the devil in her nightmares, holding her close and whispering the very same command in her ear.

her eyes widen, as the fright takes over, and jess throws her fist back to strike the stranger in the jaw. there are a few gasps from the crowd around them, but she can't hear anything other than the frantic beat of her heart. shit, shit, shit. ]

three | alias investigations

[ when she's not out buying booze or working on a case, she can be found in her humble abode — a small, crapass apartment stocked with whiskey, with a front door that barely functions. she's not the type to formally announce that she's moved, nor has she mustered the energy to advertise her business. however, rumors spread fast in maurtia falls. there's a newcomer in town, and she's already started to make a name for herself. jessica jones is an angry hurricane of a woman, but she's still a damn good private investigator when it counts. ]

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[Jesse's on his way back from a meeting with one of his men, a simple update on affairs held in the kitchen of a Chinese restaurant. He's got some complimentary takeout in a brown paper bag tucked under his arm, and his mind's on getting home and digging into some sweet and sour chicken. He almost doesn't notice the fight breaking out across the street, because it's a common occurrence in Maurtia Falls. Nothing to write home about.

But when he glances over, he catches Jessica at the center of the action. From her posture and everyone's reactions, Jesse can tell she definitely just hit that guy. And whether or not it was justified, Jessica herself looks mortified about it.

Jesse immediately jumps into the street, dodging a couple of passing cars as he rushes to Jessica's side.]

Hey - Hey, what the hell's going on?

[ the man's knocked effortlessly to the pavement, blood dripping from his mouth. jessica's gaze drops to him, only to shift up at jesse's sudden arrival — her brow still furrowed and her eyes wide.

her heart won't stop racing in her chest. she shakes her head, though her mind's still clouded with painful thoughts. turning around, she starts to flee from the scene and refuses to look back. ]

[Wow, he... didn't really expect her to just run the fuck away like that. Jesse glances at the dude, still trying to figure out what the hell could have provoked that, but it seems more important to get Jessica out of trouble than to waste time asking questions.]

Sorry, man. She's having a shitty day.

[He pulls out his wallet, tosses a hundred dollar bill at the guy, and takes off after Jessica. Not without taking the guy's injuries, too. When he catches up to her, Jesse's the one with the bloody lip.]

Hold up! Wait!

[ by the time jesse catches up to jessica, she's standing in the middle of an isolated alley on the verge of a breakdown. her brow is furrowed, as she mutters a mantra under her breath: ]

Main Street, Birch Street, Higgins — Fuck.

[ it's not working. reciting the street names only reminds jess of her childhood home — and there he is, standing in front of the restored house, waiting for her arrival with a soft, smug smile. yet another memory that kilgrave's corrupted. once she hears jesse call out for her, she turns around, prepared to tell him to back off. she doesn't want anyone to see her like this. however, jess catches a glimpse of his face, and her eyes widen. ]

Shit. Your lip.

[Jesse waves off her concern as he comes to a stop beside her. It'll take less than two minutes before that heals over. The real problem is whatever's up with Jessica.]

I'll survive. Hey, what happened? Was that guy messing with you?

[She's having a panic attack. He can feel it, and it's something he can fix just as easily as any other illness. He takes a step closer, mentally reaching for her mind, discreetly rebalancing brain chemicals.]

[ after a moment, the anxiety that clouded her vision dissipates, as if it was never there at all. with a deep sigh, she regains control of her senses, and her expression hardens. ]

Doesn't matter.

[ this isn't the first time that jesse has helped her. she doesn't appreciate the gesture. last time, he absorbed her injuries, and now he's hurt because of her again. ]

Back off. I never asked for your help.

[He doesn't take another step closer, but he's not retreating, either.]

Don't worry. You don't owe me anything.

[And, remembering the Chinese food he just picked up, Jesse raises the bag in offering.]

You hungry? Maybe we can just hang out for a while.

[Until he feels confident she won't be beating up any more civilians.]

[ she eyes the bag, then glances up at jesse, wondering what his motivations are for spending time with her. ]

Why?

[ her cynical nature threatens to take over. he's always been friendly enough to her, and he did claim that they knew each other from when she was here before. still, something doesn't quite add up. most people want nothing to do with her. ]

[ As it turns out, this particular cheap liquor store is a popular choice for imPorts who also happen to be gigantic fuckin' messes of people. Constantine strolls around the corner, humming some punky tune to himself and looking forward to restocking on the gin he likes.

He comes to a stop as he rounds the corner, just catching a certain dark-haired enigma of a girl losing her lunch. Eh, fuck it. He's in no hurry. And having been that puking lush himself plenty of times, he's loathe to see others suffer through it alone, especially when it's one of damned few people he actually likes.

John eases up against the wall of the shop, safely out of the splash zone and what he assumes her personal bubble may well be. ]

Let it out, love. Better that way.

[ you're lucky she missed your shoes, john.

jessica peers up from her position on the ground, squinting as she processes the new arrival. great, it's this guy again. why does he always seem to show up at the worst possible time? ]

Fuck off, assh— [ oh god, she's not done yet. ] Hgrhh!

[ #smooth ]

[ Although not the most agile bloke - nothing at all like all the high-octane caped folks that haunt both their worlds - John has been in enough barfights to know how to get out of the projectile path of vomit. He sidesteps round her with only a faint noise of complaint.

When she's in her element and that inner fire of hers is burning high and bright, John is sure that her witty repartee is much more intimidating. As is stands now, though, she seems rather like something at the zoo that growls uselessly through the bars at tourists. It's not a look that becomes her at all. ]

Nothin' I haven't seen before. Or heard. Happens to the best of us.

[ There's just a hint of earnestness to his voice at the otherwise idle remark. As much as she hissed and spit, she hadn't broken any of his bones in all this time yet. ]

Edited 2017-04-02 00:45 (UTC)

[ the hint of sincerity only upsets her more. she doesn't want his concern or compassion. all she wants is to wallow in her misery. slowly, jess pulls herself up into a sitting position and leans against the nearest trash bag for support. ]

Just shut up. [ she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. ugh, she stinks and feels like crap. what a day. ] And leave me alone.

[ God, does John ever hope he's not this transparent and clumsy when he has his piss-drunk-and-picking-fights days. It's a tiny and foolish hope, but still. Maybe it's why he gives her an unreadable look - not quite pity, but he seems to be going through the motions of what people have done for him, when he's been in her current position. At least, the people who haven't run off or been beat up.

He leans on the brick wall with a casual nature that says "too bad, kid". But he at least keeps an appropriate distance, not stooping over her like a child or providing any hollow attempts at comfort. After some fumbling through his pockets he finds a handkerchief, which idly gets tossed her way. ]

Bad day, then?

Jesus Christ.

[ he can't take a hint, can he? or, in her case, an explicit demand. the handkerchief falls close to her boots, but she blatantly ignores it. she can't stand his obstinacy or nonchalance. even his accent, while not quite identical to kilgrave's, unnerves her more than it normally would.

stumbling to her feet, jess tries to walk away only to lose her balance and drop right back to the ground. whoops. ]

Shit.

And there's rookie sensation Miss Jones, wipin' out at the finish line.

[ There's not a good time to mention that he knows first-hand what unresolved trauma, a downward spiral and When The Therapy Doesn't Work look like. He thinks about the scar he knows is behind her ear, and wonders if any of the ones his father caused are still visible. He doesn't react much to her stumbling, knowing better than to patronize her with hollow offers of help.

It's just like when everyone else deals with you, isn't it John? ]

Bad night, then. Or the after-effects a' one. Might offer such cliches like, "wanna talk 'bout it?" or "it'll be okay", but we both know those're shite.

[ he goes on and on like a broken record, acting as if he actually gives a crap, if only vaguely. she's disgusted, though it's more misdirected rage than anything else. closing her eyes, she huffs out a shallow breath while struggling to sit again. she won't try standing up just yet. ]

What are you — my fairy godmother? [ this asshole always seems to be right there, when she's at her most vulnerable, ready to offer a sympathetic glance or a bottle of hard liquor. even now he refuses to leave. ] Fuck. Off.

Hope not. 'Sides, most fairy godparents show up for either pity projects or easily-scammed people.

[ There's a bemused smirk on his face as he shuffles a few more steps away from her - at least it looks like he's about to actually fuck off. ]

Bourbon's no good for blacking out bad memories, by the by. A nice English gin always did the trick fer' me, though.

Edited 2017-04-02 23:28 (UTC)

I'll take your advice on booze when hell freezes over.

[ she doesn't like being reminded of anything english. not now. however, it seems that john's about to head out, which she's grateful for. about goddamn time. ]

[ John takes a few more strides towards the door of the liquor store with a chuckle. ]

I've been to hell. Don't give me ideas.

[ He slips through the door of the shop, bell in the entranceway jingling as he disappears. After a few short minutes, he re-emerges and sets a package of nausea pills and water at her feet. Then a mickey of vodka before he backs off again. ]

Tools of the trade for self-medicating survivors. Stop long enough to prevent total liver failure, then right back to work blocking out everything that made you how you are, right? [ His sarcasm, charm and pity are oddly absent now. Instead he's dull, matter of fact, and just maybe referring to himself as much as her. ]

[ thank god he's leaving. now jess can finally enjoy her self-pity in peace. however, a few minutes later, john returns. she glances down at the medication and vodka, then squints up at him. ]

You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?

[ two can play at this game. while she's wasted, she has enough common sense to discern the reason for his benevolence. either she reminds him of someone he cares about or he's sees himself in her. based on their few encounters, she's willing to bet it's the latter. ]

Aye. Let's just say sitting and talking doesn't always work for everyone. 'Least not sober.

[ There's a sad, knowing smirk on his face. Like she could hiss and spit all she wants and he wouldn't even blink. He knows it's not fair when he just waltzed right in while she was reliving some horrible memories all those months ago. It deals him a hand that he didn't ask for, but must play anyway. But alas, it's just not his style to overplay himself by telling her just how much he relates, so cryptic gestures will have to do. If she's as good a detective as she seems, she can figure it out. ]

Having said that, s'why I started doing the magic nonsense. Apparently, it's fated for my bloodline, but I just needed to get away from my 'da.

[Nope, nope, nope! That's not happening, sorry, babe.

If everyone in this small crowd wasn't already staring at Jess, they definitely are now, as Ruby basically just appears beside her, grabbing for her arm before she can knock out every single tooth in this douchebag's head. (Wolf speed may only come in short bursts in this form, but boy does it come in handy in a pinch.)]

Whoa, hey, everything okay over here??

[ one second, jessica jones is punching the shitstain in front of her, and the next, her arm is in ruby's grasp. her gaze widens, and after a few shallow breaths, she snaps back into reality.

her other hand, which holds the man firmly in place, releases his shirt, and he stumbles back to fall on the ground. he's in shock, and a bruise is already forming on his jaw, but he'll live. meanwhile, jess turns her attention to ruby, eyes narrowing into a glare as she pulls her arm away. ]

Don't.

[ touch her, she means. with a scowl, she swallows hard, then starts to storm off. none of the other bystanders attempt to follow. they've all seen what she can do. ]

[She pauses just a second to look toward the man on the ground, but seeing that he is mostly fine, Ruby turns and hurries after Jess.]

Pretty sure that's my line. What the hell was that?

None of your goddamn business.

[ the response comes out harsh and bitter, and she continues to walk away. hoping that ruby won't follow, but deep down, realizing it's inevitable. ]

[Sorry, babe.

Also, ouch a little??]

No, but I'm pretty sure it's the police's, if any of those people recognized the world-famous imPort who just decked that guy. So let's hope I'm the worst you have to deal with over this.

[ she's the worst. you already know this, ruby. however, once the other woman catches up with her, jess stops and turns around to confront her. ]

I'll take my chances.

[ her lips are pulled into a tight frown. her panic attack hasn't passed yet, but she's making a valiant effort of looking like she's not bothered by it. ]

[Well, that's possibly better than running away.]

Oh, yeah? You gonna beat them up too?

[ jess glares at her, quiet and sullen, before she sighs. ]

He was being a prick, so I shut him up, okay? That's all. I'm fine.

[ so fine. nothing to see here. ]

[Ruby purses her lips. Very believable, dear.]

You don't seem fine.

[ her eyes narrow in frustration. she huffs a reticent breath through her nose. ]

Yeah well, not your problem. So leave me alone.

I'm not the one making it other people's problems here.

[It's three in the morning but the woman who walks stealthily towards a particular apartment door has no need to sleep.

'Alias Investigations? Bitch broke my nose!' 'Alias...take my advice and stay well away from that lunatic!' 'Short dark and angry? Yeah that's her'.

Those were just a few of the things that Gemini had heard about Jessica Jones, and they'd been enough to peak her interest. A mere private investigator probably wasn't a threat to her plans, but it had been a slow night and she was feeling bored enough to follow what she'd heard to their source, the 'office' of Alias Investigations.

Reaching the unremarkable door, Gemini's eyebrows rose as she noticed it wasn't even properly closed. What kind of PI didn't even bother to shut their door at night? Putting her ear to the door Gemini listened intently for a good twenty seconds, her sharp hearing satisfying her that the owner was indeed asleep and it was safe to enter undetected. The door might squeal loudly if she tried to open it fully, so Gemini didn't bother, simply flattening and elongating her body to squeeze around the ajar door and refilling into her proper dimensions once past the obstacle.

Inside, her nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol and general clutter. First stop Jones's files, to see what cases the PI had recently taken on. Booted feet carried her silently across the floor, a trick with her mass reducing her weight to less than that of a child as she began to methodically search what passed for an office.

Did Jessica Jones even keep records? The more she looked through the meagre collection of papers the more Gemini began to doubt it.]

[ well, gemini's not wrong. jessica's place is nothing short of a dump, and while there are a few folders containing files on her desk, none of them seem remotely interesting. there's information on three recent cases she's accepted, and all of them involve tracking down unfaithful spouses.

about five minutes pass before there's a sudden noise from the bedroom — the sound of a lamp shattering on the floor. jess has woken up abruptly from another nightmare. she mutters a curse under her breath, then after a long moment, drags herself out of bed and straight into the direction of her office. ]

[Unfaithful husband, boring, unfaithful husband, more boring. Didn't being a private investigator in this city involve anything other than scumbag husbands? It was tempting to throw the folders to the floor in frustration, but not wanting to alert Jones to her presence Gemini replaced them exactly as she found them, her head snapping round at the sudden sound of movement from the other room.

With a flex of will her body flexes and changes, shrinking down and sprouting fur, and by the time Jess enters rather than a woman a small black cat looks up at Jessica with golden eyes, frozen in place and seemingly undecided whether to bolt or not.]

[ jess walks out, wearing a dark tank top and a pair of jeans (her only pair, one may argue). she rubs the sleep from her eyes, gaze widening once she notices the unexpected visitor. ]

What the hell?

[ how did a cat get in here? one glimpse of the front door reminds her of the reason. it's broken due to a recent mishap with an annoying client, that's right. with an exhale, she watches the creature warily. jessica jones is not a cat person. well, a pet person in general. not much of a person person either. the point is she's a misanthrope. ]

[This is Gemini's first sight of Jessica Jones, and the sleepy dishevelled woman she sees hardly impresses her. The state of the woman goes with the appearance of her 'office' to almost make Gemini leave there and then, but something, she's not quite sure what, makes her stay.

Padding closer, she makes her way over to Jess's leg and rubs against it just like any ordinary cat would do, then looks up at Jess and gives a plaintive little mew calculated to go right to her heartstrings.]

[ unfortunately, jessica jones lacks a heart, and thus, heartstrings. at least on the surface. she peers down at the animal, her mouth twisting into a grimace. she attempts to move her leg to brush off gemini, without harming her. stepping to the side, she walks over to the door, holding it open and turning back to look at the creature. ]

Come on. Get out.

The lack of affection actually only encourages Gemini, as she does so hate that touchy-feely stuff, now that she knows she's not going to be, horror of horrors, petted she's happy to stick around and do a little spying.

So nope, Jess might open the door but Gemini's not going anywhere. Instead she lifts her tail and wanders towards Jess's bedroom with a mrrow that says 'just make me slow two-leg.]

Hey!

[ jesus christ. it's not like she expected the cat to understand her right away, but it's almost as if the creature blatantly ignored her to prove a point. undeterred, jess follows after the feline, blocking the entrance to her bedroom. ]

Time to go.

[ bending down, jess reaches out for gemini and attempts to scoop her up in her arms. ]

Edited 2017-04-23 23:57 (UTC)

[Gemini had found that a thing about cats was that if they didn't want to be grabbed they wouldn't be, and in this form she's just the same, albeit even more so, darting around the edge of Jess's fingers and in between her legs to scoot through into the bedroom.

Nice try Jess, but this cat ins't going anywhere.

Now what's through here in the bedroom?]

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open | and I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn

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LMAO perfect

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