IC CONTACT
"Yo, there's no beep on this thing."
[ VOICE, VIDEO, ACTION ]
"Yo, there's no beep on this thing."
[ VOICE, VIDEO, ACTION ]
[Joel has thought long and hard about how to approach this - there's no good way to do it, he knows that for goddamn sure. 'Sorry I tortured you and would've murdered you if my daughter hadn't shown up'. Yeah, that'd go down well.
But he has to say something, he owes the guy that much. Never let it be said that Joel shies away from doing unpleasant things.]
I don't know your name, but I did a terrible thing to you, and I owe you an explanation - and an apology. [His voice is downright brusque, today, businesslike and detached, very different from the low, terrible anger of a few days ago.]
Yao messed with my head the other day. They do that. They made me forget where I was, so I thought I was somewhere else. With bad people. Real bad people. [He thinks back to Colorado, and almost says evil, though that's not really a word he trucks with much.] I thought you were one of 'em. It's not an excuse, just an explanation. I'm sorry for what I did, for whatever that's worth, and I can promise it won't happen again.
But he has to say something, he owes the guy that much. Never let it be said that Joel shies away from doing unpleasant things.]
I don't know your name, but I did a terrible thing to you, and I owe you an explanation - and an apology. [His voice is downright brusque, today, businesslike and detached, very different from the low, terrible anger of a few days ago.]
Yao messed with my head the other day. They do that. They made me forget where I was, so I thought I was somewhere else. With bad people. Real bad people. [He thinks back to Colorado, and almost says evil, though that's not really a word he trucks with much.] I thought you were one of 'em. It's not an excuse, just an explanation. I'm sorry for what I did, for whatever that's worth, and I can promise it won't happen again.
[ A short whip of fear at the sound of this voice. It comes and it goes.
Jesse listens to the whole thing, soaking it in because it is, honestly, fascinating. He's seen three sides to this person in such a short time: killer, father, businessman. Ironing out rough edges, that's all this guy is doing. He's making sure a bad trip Yao sent him on doesn't come back to bite him in the ass.
Not that Jesse presents much of a threat (that anyone knows or could guess about), but you can never be too careful. It won't happen again - that's almost funny. No, wait, it is funny. ]
Whatever. [ A hollow laugh. ] Shit happens, right? No need for the sales pitch, man, my scrawny ass ain't goin' up against you.
[ But he does ask, with genuine concern: ] Is your kid okay?
Jesse listens to the whole thing, soaking it in because it is, honestly, fascinating. He's seen three sides to this person in such a short time: killer, father, businessman. Ironing out rough edges, that's all this guy is doing. He's making sure a bad trip Yao sent him on doesn't come back to bite him in the ass.
Not that Jesse presents much of a threat (that anyone knows or could guess about), but you can never be too careful. It won't happen again - that's almost funny. No, wait, it is funny. ]
Whatever. [ A hollow laugh. ] Shit happens, right? No need for the sales pitch, man, my scrawny ass ain't goin' up against you.
[ But he does ask, with genuine concern: ] Is your kid okay?
[ ... aw, man. Jesse sighs, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head. Out of the three of them, he feels for her the most. Not just for what she'd seen, but because that was her dad. It's gotta be some royally messed up shit to stumble on your dad knifing some stranger.
It's not her fault. It's not even Joel's fault, from what he's hearing, but if it wasn't for Sarah he wouldn't consider that angle for a second. ]
I'm good. [ Psh, it's nothing. ] Totally cool. I got fixed up, no problem.
Thanks for, uh, thanks for asking.
It's not her fault. It's not even Joel's fault, from what he's hearing, but if it wasn't for Sarah he wouldn't consider that angle for a second. ]
I'm good. [ Psh, it's nothing. ] Totally cool. I got fixed up, no problem.
Thanks for, uh, thanks for asking.
[ a little sigh before she begins betrays her bone-deep exhaustion. it's the only tell in vanozza's otherwise unshakeable poise.
many of her hours have been spent looking in on sarah and ellie and the rest with lucrezia. it's wearing in a slow, relentless way that she only feels when she is alone. she has no hours left for herself, though she tries to spare a few minutes for others. like jesse.
friendships are dangerous things to forsake. ]
If I ask if you are well, will I receive an honest answer?
many of her hours have been spent looking in on sarah and ellie and the rest with lucrezia. it's wearing in a slow, relentless way that she only feels when she is alone. she has no hours left for herself, though she tries to spare a few minutes for others. like jesse.
friendships are dangerous things to forsake. ]
If I ask if you are well, will I receive an honest answer?
[ She's not around most of the time, looking after her kid he assumes. Lately she's been gone even more. But when he does see her, Jesse tries to be nice, a much more polite and accommodating person with Lady Vanozza than he is with the majority of Haven.
she fine as hell
The truth? He clears his throat. The truth. ]
Is anyone? [ It's Haven. He'll be out of supply soon. Can't tell anyone about that. He can read through to her exhaustion and returns the inquiry. ] Are you?
The truth? He clears his throat. The truth. ]
Is anyone? [ It's Haven. He'll be out of supply soon. Can't tell anyone about that. He can read through to her exhaustion and returns the inquiry. ] Are you?
[He does not remember the walk home. He does not remember meeting Doctor Impossible and speaking with him, he does not remember these things because his brain is too saturated with blood. With blood that is not his own, warm and wet and pooling across the ground in a message even vocal than Cecil's usual messages were.
His laboratory coat, his face, his hands, his entire self is baptised in blood. But he does not take a path to the bathroom, to a place where he can wash the night away from him, he instead halts his footsteps in the lounge. He looks, and feels, lost.
His hands seek out the radio and fiddle with the knobs, until the silence and static fill the air around him. Until he is suddenly sat with his head resting against the speakers, letting that static fill his world as he waits. As he waits for a voice that is familiar, that is normal, to come onto the air and reassure him that everything is okay.
But it is not okay.]
His laboratory coat, his face, his hands, his entire self is baptised in blood. But he does not take a path to the bathroom, to a place where he can wash the night away from him, he instead halts his footsteps in the lounge. He looks, and feels, lost.
His hands seek out the radio and fiddle with the knobs, until the silence and static fill the air around him. Until he is suddenly sat with his head resting against the speakers, letting that static fill his world as he waits. As he waits for a voice that is familiar, that is normal, to come onto the air and reassure him that everything is okay.
But it is not okay.]
[ The blood is hard to miss and completely unexpected. His roommate's only been gone a couple of hours, he thinks? But now Jesse's eyes are wide on Carlos, who wandered in drenched in the stuff. Loud static from the broken radio, Carlos crumpled against silent speakers. He remembers doing something similar once before he got here, turning the volume as high as it would go and hugging himself against the outer frame.
The shock of what he's seeing gets him to abandon whatever he was doing, and he skitters closer, frowning with bright eyes. Crouching close. ]
Hey - [ Concerned. Is that his blood or someone else's? He can't spot any prominent injuries, but some bad shit obviously went down either way. ] Hey, Carlos. What the hell happened? Should I get some help?
[ The healer he met when he first got here. Ciel. He could always call Ciel. ]
The shock of what he's seeing gets him to abandon whatever he was doing, and he skitters closer, frowning with bright eyes. Crouching close. ]
Hey - [ Concerned. Is that his blood or someone else's? He can't spot any prominent injuries, but some bad shit obviously went down either way. ] Hey, Carlos. What the hell happened? Should I get some help?
[ The healer he met when he first got here. Ciel. He could always call Ciel. ]
[ Woken from slumber and bleary-eyed, it takes him a second to recognize the face through his squinting. But the as soon he does... Jesse sits up pretty quick! He checks the door before answering out of a survival instinct, mouth hanging open. Why would someone who had once threatened to kill him be calling him at 3 in the freaking AM?
Should he answer? What should he do? Is this like the movie Scream? Is he Drew Barrymore? ]
... [ Click. ] What?
Should he answer? What should he do? Is this like the movie Scream? Is he Drew Barrymore? ]
... [ Click. ] What?
[ It has been a long, long, looooooong day, and the sun is not even all the way to the center of the sky yet. A beautiful spring sun, white and glowing with a carelessly hollow center, and Cecil stares up at it.
It's been a few hours now, since... everything. He knows what he has to do, is determined what he will do. But... He is hesitating still. Because of Jonathan. Because of what Jonathan had said. And getting rid of him after had not been easy, had not be kind, and... Cecil is regretting it now. He is regretting it as he stares up at a cold and empty imperfect sun. And it's only when he stops staring, when he turns around to go back, to find Jonathan, to apologize and remind them both that they are not alone-- that he sees Jesse there. ]
Um...
[ Jesse has lost Carlos also, Cecil remembers; Jesse's face is obscured by a hollow white circle of light. He remembers Jesse is a friend of Carlos's, and Carlos... is gone. At least... Gone for five days. ]
I... Am sorry. I asked you to protect him, but... That was wrong. A scientist is... self-reliant. A scientist is... always fine, so... He did not need either of us protecting him, anyway. I know that, and... I should not have put that kind of impractical and false responsibility on you, his friend.
I'm sorry, Jesse.
It's been a few hours now, since... everything. He knows what he has to do, is determined what he will do. But... He is hesitating still. Because of Jonathan. Because of what Jonathan had said. And getting rid of him after had not been easy, had not be kind, and... Cecil is regretting it now. He is regretting it as he stares up at a cold and empty imperfect sun. And it's only when he stops staring, when he turns around to go back, to find Jonathan, to apologize and remind them both that they are not alone-- that he sees Jesse there. ]
Um...
[ Jesse has lost Carlos also, Cecil remembers; Jesse's face is obscured by a hollow white circle of light. He remembers Jesse is a friend of Carlos's, and Carlos... is gone. At least... Gone for five days. ]
I... Am sorry. I asked you to protect him, but... That was wrong. A scientist is... self-reliant. A scientist is... always fine, so... He did not need either of us protecting him, anyway. I know that, and... I should not have put that kind of impractical and false responsibility on you, his friend.
I'm sorry, Jesse.
[ When the body went away, that's when he knew Carlos would come back. When the body went away, that's when Jesse knew he'd have to go back to that room and sit alone with what he'd done. With everything that happened in just one, very long day. Not truly alone, because people are always milling about housing blocks, but he got so used to Carlos being around that he's scared to go back.
Without meaning to, without really thinking about it, he's following Cecil instead of going back. Like he's lost at sea and this is the only liferaft he can see right now. Cecil turns, begins speaking-- and it's too much. He presses fingertips to his eyelids and shakes his head. ] Yo, um...
[ He can't stand talking about it or hearing apologies from Cecil when he made a fatal error in that room, false responsibility or no. Where he comes from scientists are human, not completely self-reliant beings the way Carlos and Cecil talk about them, and sometimes they need other people to act quick on their behalves or save their lives. His hands move to his shoulders and he speaks past what Cecil is saying, urging past it with a shaky but stronger voice. ]
Can I, um, hang out with you? Go back to your place or wherever? Just, you don't gotta do anything, just... y'know.
[ Not even addressing it, in the end. Unspoken: he needs this, more than Cecil does. And he knows it. He knows exactly what will happen if he responds with it's fine, it's okay and fucks off on his own. He'll be snorting a line within the hour. ]
Without meaning to, without really thinking about it, he's following Cecil instead of going back. Like he's lost at sea and this is the only liferaft he can see right now. Cecil turns, begins speaking-- and it's too much. He presses fingertips to his eyelids and shakes his head. ] Yo, um...
[ He can't stand talking about it or hearing apologies from Cecil when he made a fatal error in that room, false responsibility or no. Where he comes from scientists are human, not completely self-reliant beings the way Carlos and Cecil talk about them, and sometimes they need other people to act quick on their behalves or save their lives. His hands move to his shoulders and he speaks past what Cecil is saying, urging past it with a shaky but stronger voice. ]
Can I, um, hang out with you? Go back to your place or wherever? Just, you don't gotta do anything, just... y'know.
[ Not even addressing it, in the end. Unspoken: he needs this, more than Cecil does. And he knows it. He knows exactly what will happen if he responds with it's fine, it's okay and fucks off on his own. He'll be snorting a line within the hour. ]
Edited 2014-06-21 00:48 (UTC)
Jesse? [ she doesn't wait for him to say anything - just keeps talking. ] Hey, one of the people in my room's gone, so there's this empty bed. And I just... was wondering if you wanted to take it?
You don't have to. It'd just be better if it's you than some stranger. And... then if bad shit happens, we don't have to find each other. [ she's bad at this. she's bad at taking sentimental stuff and making it sound practical, even when it is. really, she just gets nervous when the people she actually gets attached to live 24 houses away. it's kind of why she doesn't get attached in the first place, to be honest. ]
You don't have to. It'd just be better if it's you than some stranger. And... then if bad shit happens, we don't have to find each other. [ she's bad at this. she's bad at taking sentimental stuff and making it sound practical, even when it is. really, she just gets nervous when the people she actually gets attached to live 24 houses away. it's kind of why she doesn't get attached in the first place, to be honest. ]
Edited 2014-06-21 09:17 (UTC)
[ He swallows the greeting he had in mind. It takes him a second to catch onto what she's offering, and she can't see it, but his eyes soften up. She doesn't think of him as some psycho after his freak-out session, and in fact, she wouldn't mind sharing her room. He's touched. He kinda wants to take her up on it. Clementine ended up helping him more than a little and he'd feel better to have her nearby too.
Only, he's also attached to certain roommates. ]
Hey, Clem, um, I would, except for... some people around here, you know? Dunno what the hell they'd do without me. [ Haha. Pause. ] I got an empty spot too. You wouldn't--?
Only, he's also attached to certain roommates. ]
Hey, Clem, um, I would, except for... some people around here, you know? Dunno what the hell they'd do without me. [ Haha. Pause. ] I got an empty spot too. You wouldn't--?
forward-dated until drops are processed, via walkie talkie so here's hoping he's got it turned on
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walkietalkie
2014-06-26 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ crackle crackle ] Jesse? [ once again she fails to wait for a reply. ] The bed in my room's full now... And he's kind of a jerk.
But there's only three people in the room at the other end, and two more people just disappeared from Deadpool's room. I think there's enough room now... I mean, if you still want to come.
But there's only three people in the room at the other end, and two more people just disappeared from Deadpool's room. I think there's enough room now... I mean, if you still want to come.
[ Jesse plucks his walkie talkie off the drawer when he hears Clem's voice coming in, his mouth curling a little at kind of a jerk. Not because she's stuck with a jerk, but because of the way she said it.
He opens his mouth to suggest beating the new jerk up, but yet again, she stumps him first. There's more room now. There's two spots in, in Deadpool's room. Clementine's housing block and Wade's are one in the same. ]
Yeah. [ He doesn't know why he's shocked, it's just - wow, lucky. He can take Carlos, Ellie... if they'll come with him. ] Yeah, I'll check with my folks. That should work.
Thanks, Clem. For lookin' out for me. [ you can almost hear the little smile back on his face. ] But I'm keepin' this anyway. [ crackle ] Haven't seen one since I was a kid, it's cool.
He opens his mouth to suggest beating the new jerk up, but yet again, she stumps him first. There's more room now. There's two spots in, in Deadpool's room. Clementine's housing block and Wade's are one in the same. ]
Yeah. [ He doesn't know why he's shocked, it's just - wow, lucky. He can take Carlos, Ellie... if they'll come with him. ] Yeah, I'll check with my folks. That should work.
Thanks, Clem. For lookin' out for me. [ you can almost hear the little smile back on his face. ] But I'm keepin' this anyway. [ crackle ] Haven't seen one since I was a kid, it's cool.
Edited 2014-06-28 06:46 (UTC)
[ It's late. Ridiculously late, and Jesse might have had some troubles finding sleep himself with his bunkmate moving around so much down below his bed. It takes Ellie ages to fall asleep in this godforsaken place, much more than the world she came from. And that's saying something. It's different when you're forcibly separated from the man who's protected you for so long, when you felt so safe in the same place as him. Now is a different ballgame, involving people who come from many worlds-- Some more privileged than others. ]
[ But eventually, she got there. Ellie is a restless sleeper, flipping this way and that under her sheets, murmuring, breathing heavily... It's just a part of her. And sometimes, a lot of times, she'll have nightmares. Yet another part of her. ]
[ The darkness of the room is silent, perfectly quite save for her soft noises until finally-- ]
Aaaaaaaaghh get OFF ME!
[ With a shriek, Ellie is forced from her slumber. She sits up fast, even managing to hit her head on the frame of Jesse's bunk above her. She yelps, hunkering forward to grab her head while the rest of her trembles and writhes from the night terror in her mind. She curses under her breath, voice shaken as she rocks back and forth. ]
[ But eventually, she got there. Ellie is a restless sleeper, flipping this way and that under her sheets, murmuring, breathing heavily... It's just a part of her. And sometimes, a lot of times, she'll have nightmares. Yet another part of her. ]
[ The darkness of the room is silent, perfectly quite save for her soft noises until finally-- ]
Aaaaaaaaghh get OFF ME!
[ With a shriek, Ellie is forced from her slumber. She sits up fast, even managing to hit her head on the frame of Jesse's bunk above her. She yelps, hunkering forward to grab her head while the rest of her trembles and writhes from the night terror in her mind. She curses under her breath, voice shaken as she rocks back and forth. ]
[ Jesse used to sleep better. He doesn't sleep so well in Haven, for obvious reasons. Add to that the commotion that Ellie is making in her bottom bunk and he's rubbing the half-sleep from his eyes, waking up, sitting up-- and that's when he hears the screaming. The sound of that shriek pierces through the room and he bolts up, flinching at the thud that follows. ]
Fuck-- [ Jesse doesn't think to use the stairs for whatever reason. He drops down by hanging off the side of his bed and hits the ground-- and no, it's not a graceful drop. Literally, he hits the ground, like he rolled out of bed and went flying. But he bounces back up immediately because he's springy like that. ] Ellie?!
[ And blinks at her in the dark, trying to adjust his eyesight to it. He crouches at the side of her bed and whispers. ] You okay? What's wrong? Damn, you scared the shit outta me.
Fuck-- [ Jesse doesn't think to use the stairs for whatever reason. He drops down by hanging off the side of his bed and hits the ground-- and no, it's not a graceful drop. Literally, he hits the ground, like he rolled out of bed and went flying. But he bounces back up immediately because he's springy like that. ] Ellie?!
[ And blinks at her in the dark, trying to adjust his eyesight to it. He crouches at the side of her bed and whispers. ] You okay? What's wrong? Damn, you scared the shit outta me.
Who else lives with you in your building?
[ Yes hi Jesse how are you, fine weather we're having, gosh isn't that just swell? ]
[ Yes hi Jesse how are you, fine weather we're having, gosh isn't that just swell? ]
Hello to you too. [ smart-alecky, then down to business: ] Most of 'em are okay. Carlos, Clementine, Wade, 'n Travis are the only ones I know, but I can vouch for them all. Whatever my word's worth.
[ a beat ] Wade's the kinda dude who could kick your ass without blinkin', but he's a good guy. Wouldn't ever hurt a little girl. Clem's as dependable as they come. An' I'll do whatever I can to watch Ellie's back.
[ jesse can infer why joel is calling and what he probably wants to hear, yes. ]
[ a beat ] Wade's the kinda dude who could kick your ass without blinkin', but he's a good guy. Wouldn't ever hurt a little girl. Clem's as dependable as they come. An' I'll do whatever I can to watch Ellie's back.
[ jesse can infer why joel is calling and what he probably wants to hear, yes. ]
Edited 2014-06-30 22:12 (UTC)
[Scientists are solitary. Like the majestic mountain, they exist only within the realms of understanding for some people, are solid and enduring, and sometimes have a snow-capped look about them. Mostly in winter. So Carlos is not used to living with other people, he makes rudimentary mistakes even after a few months. Living with the Faceless Old Woman and preparing to live with Cecil did not prepare him for life in housing block one.
One of the things he still fails to do is knock when the bedroom door is closed.
This is something he regrets now. It is something that he would like to go back and redo. It is something he cannot do because he is incapable of moving backwards through his current linear timeline. It is something he cannot do because his eyes are fixed on Jesse Pinkman's hand. And, more specifically, what is is holding.]
One of the things he still fails to do is knock when the bedroom door is closed.
This is something he regrets now. It is something that he would like to go back and redo. It is something he cannot do because he is incapable of moving backwards through his current linear timeline. It is something he cannot do because his eyes are fixed on Jesse Pinkman's hand. And, more specifically, what is is holding.]
[ Get out won't save him. It's too late. In space, no one can hear you scream. In Haven, everyone can hear you masturbating.
Carlos. In the doorway. Staring. Jesse with his pants down and a hand on his dick, hunched over the edge of the bed. Caught in the act.
WHY!!!!
He thinks he can rub one out real quick if he's careful. The close quarters in Haven drive him insane with this horseshit and sometimes a person has needs. It's quiet today, and as long as he's quiet it should be alright, yeah? No. Not five minutes into the act Carlos pops up like he was summoned and is frozen and staring jesus fucking christ. After a couple of seconds of shock, Jesse gathers his pants up in a fury. He trips into standing and challenges Carlos with a sharp glare and a red face over the span of his shoulder, because he's doing his belt up and hiding his goddamn erection by keeping his back turned at an angle.
Stop staring, homo!!! is his first thought, clipped in his own mind theater. No, no, Jesse, don't ruin your friendship over this of all things. Carlos made a terrible mistake, but it was clearly a mistake. ]
What the fuck, dude? Didn't anyone teach you how to knock?! [ WHYYYYY ] Hi. Hello. I'm busy. I was.
Carlos. In the doorway. Staring. Jesse with his pants down and a hand on his dick, hunched over the edge of the bed. Caught in the act.
He thinks he can rub one out real quick if he's careful. The close quarters in Haven drive him insane with this horseshit and sometimes a person has needs. It's quiet today, and as long as he's quiet it should be alright, yeah? No. Not five minutes into the act Carlos pops up like he was summoned and is frozen and staring jesus fucking christ. After a couple of seconds of shock, Jesse gathers his pants up in a fury. He trips into standing and challenges Carlos with a sharp glare and a red face over the span of his shoulder, because he's doing his belt up and hiding his goddamn erection by keeping his back turned at an angle.
Stop staring, homo!!! is his first thought, clipped in his own mind theater. No, no, Jesse, don't ruin your friendship over this of all things. Carlos made a terrible mistake, but it was clearly a mistake. ]
What the fuck, dude? Didn't anyone teach you how to knock?! [ WHYYYYY ] Hi. Hello. I'm busy. I was.
[ Fuck. Erasing the mental image isn't working. Jesse scrubs a hand over his face before answering. ]
Hey. [ Someone to talk to about this death business, if Kaworu is up for it-- ] No, man, it's--
[ It's awful because he thought they killed the kid and put him out of his misery, but all they did was throw him into that mindfuck of an experience. He's never telling Travis. ] It's nobody's fault. But I, uh, I'm sorry for what, what happened after. We didn't know.
[ But he learned soon, is the implication. And he sounds so sad about it. ]
Hey. [ Someone to talk to about this death business, if Kaworu is up for it-- ] No, man, it's--
[ It's awful because he thought they killed the kid and put him out of his misery, but all they did was throw him into that mindfuck of an experience. He's never telling Travis. ] It's nobody's fault. But I, uh, I'm sorry for what, what happened after. We didn't know.
[ But he learned soon, is the implication. And he sounds so sad about it. ]
for real this time, i deleted so fast i dont remember what i ended with
evangelic
- 2014-07-29 03:53 (UTC) - Expandim sry this took forever i kept wishing they were on an umbrella date
blowfish
- 2014-08-12 16:00 (UTC) - Expandaction; BEFORE THE EVENT OMG SO LATE OR EARLY WHATEVER
polaropposite
2014-09-09 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's hot like the desert (thanks, Cecil, you asshole), which means that Jack is not a happy polar bear. He had thought Haven was hot beforehand, and this is just... it's deathly.
He had made the mistake of going outside, and the sun had nearly made him pass out, which is why he darted into the nearest house and - without thinking - began ripping clothes out of closets and drawers to cover himself with to create more shade from the sun spilling in from the windows.
Hopefully Jesse won't mind coming home to a polar bear hiding in his shirts, pants, and boxer shorts. S'cool, right?]
He had made the mistake of going outside, and the sun had nearly made him pass out, which is why he darted into the nearest house and - without thinking - began ripping clothes out of closets and drawers to cover himself with to create more shade from the sun spilling in from the windows.
Hopefully Jesse won't mind coming home to a polar bear hiding in his shirts, pants, and boxer shorts. S'cool, right?]
[Gus' voice is as smooth and even as ever.]
Mr. Pinkman. I've just arrived. Would you meet me inside apartment thirty-seven as soon as you receive this message?
[Not that he knows these phones don't receive voicemails.]
I'd very much appreciate it if you could be prompt.
Mr. Pinkman. I've just arrived. Would you meet me inside apartment thirty-seven as soon as you receive this message?
[Not that he knows these phones don't receive voicemails.]
I'd very much appreciate it if you could be prompt.
Edited (fixed the number this.... time...) 2014-10-20 19:40 (UTC)
[ Good thing Jesse caught this, or it would've disappeared into the abyss of missed calls and voice messages never recorded. He sees the little image of Gus' face embedded into the screen when he picks his phone out of his pocket, instantly recognizable. Oh shit.
Chills run down his spine and shock keeps him from answering immediately. For a long moment, that's all that he is-- thunderstruck. It's been a fucking long time since he had to even think about all the problems that he left behind. His hands are a little shaky when he flips the device open to answer. He shuts his eyes on hearing that voice, on hearing certain confirmation that Gustavo Fring has shown up in Haven.
Newly arrived. While listening, he mouths a quiet Jesus to himself, followed by an inaudible curse. ]
Thirty-seven?
[ Double-checking serves the purpose of triple-checking that it's really him. A small tendril of hope weaves its way through his shock-- if Gus is here, maybe... ]
You alone?
Chills run down his spine and shock keeps him from answering immediately. For a long moment, that's all that he is-- thunderstruck. It's been a fucking long time since he had to even think about all the problems that he left behind. His hands are a little shaky when he flips the device open to answer. He shuts his eyes on hearing that voice, on hearing certain confirmation that Gustavo Fring has shown up in Haven.
Newly arrived. While listening, he mouths a quiet Jesus to himself, followed by an inaudible curse. ]
Thirty-seven?
[ Double-checking serves the purpose of triple-checking that it's really him. A small tendril of hope weaves its way through his shock-- if Gus is here, maybe... ]
You alone?
[right after this, because hiruma likes covering bases.]
Dunno why you're hanging out with kids, but I ain't here to ask questions. Some peewee named Clementine's in some shit, mouth of the subway tunnel.
She asked for you specifically, better make it quick.
[he just hung up on you..........]
Dunno why you're hanging out with kids, but I ain't here to ask questions. Some peewee named Clementine's in some shit, mouth of the subway tunnel.
She asked for you specifically, better make it quick.
[he just hung up on you..........]
backdated to after JESSE AND HIRUMA BURN DOWN THE GARDEN LIKE FUCKING IDIOTS
sangreporsangre
2014-11-14 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[Gus doesn't wait for Jesse to answer.]
Mr. Pinkman.
Would you mind explaining what you were thinking to me?
Mr. Pinkman.
Would you mind explaining what you were thinking to me?
[It takes everything in him to keep the panic at bay. Wade's tried his entire life to cut himself off from his emotions; to keep I feel completely separate from I am. He succeeded in some fashion when he was on a job, but those feelings were always still present, simmering below the surface. This was the first time he'd ever been completely devoid, like a switch inside his heart had suddenly been turned off. And like a man stricken with thirst is in risk of becoming violently ill when he drinks too much, the sudden influx of emotions, after days of feeling absolutely nothing, threatens to completely overtake him.
He needs to see Jesse. That's the one thing that prevents him from holing himself up in a secluded place and dealing with this on his own. He needs to find out if things are still all right between them.
So it's with no small amount of trepidation that he finds himself knocking on the door to the room that he and Jesse share, probably looking just about as nervous and anxious as he feels.]
Jesse? You in here?
He needs to see Jesse. That's the one thing that prevents him from holing himself up in a secluded place and dealing with this on his own. He needs to find out if things are still all right between them.
So it's with no small amount of trepidation that he finds himself knocking on the door to the room that he and Jesse share, probably looking just about as nervous and anxious as he feels.]
Jesse? You in here?
[ Jesse is terrified too. That was a conversation that didn't happen naturally. It sits with him the entire time up to now, a weight he carries around with him.
There's a voice in the back of his mind that keeps repeating the same sentence: he's gonna be pissed. He's not sure if he should expect to see Wade again soon. So when he does hear the familiar voice and the knock at the door, there's no small amount of relief for it. He... doesn't sound pissed.
He sounds, well, scared. And a lot more like his old self. Jesse opens the door, carefully, a pillar of anxious energy to match him. ]
Hey. [ A very heavy hey. ] You okay?
[ He makes space for Wade to come in, if he wants to. ]
There's a voice in the back of his mind that keeps repeating the same sentence: he's gonna be pissed. He's not sure if he should expect to see Wade again soon. So when he does hear the familiar voice and the knock at the door, there's no small amount of relief for it. He... doesn't sound pissed.
He sounds, well, scared. And a lot more like his old self. Jesse opens the door, carefully, a pillar of anxious energy to match him. ]
Hey. [ A very heavy hey. ] You okay?
[ He makes space for Wade to come in, if he wants to. ]
Jesse.
[ From her demeanor, it isn't immediately obvious that she had to work up the courage to just talk to him. But she did. He's her housemate, someone she gets on with well, but not anyone she'd call a friend... yet. Maybe. Friendship is tricky, sometimes.
Still. She digresses. There was a point to this sudden conversation. ]
When's your birthday?
[ From her demeanor, it isn't immediately obvious that she had to work up the courage to just talk to him. But she did. He's her housemate, someone she gets on with well, but not anyone she'd call a friend... yet. Maybe. Friendship is tricky, sometimes.
Still. She digresses. There was a point to this sudden conversation. ]
When's your birthday?
[takes a while for people to clear out, longer than hiruma thought; a whole day of waiting in the backdrop of a busied block one. it's late evening now, maybe not the best time, but there's no chances left to put it off, telling himself to go later, when the dust settles. that there hasn't been a good opportunity.
maybe i shouldn't bring this up at all.
but he's there now, much to his fleeting dismay, and he eases the door open before nerves fray enough to force him back and away.]
You in here?
maybe i shouldn't bring this up at all.
but he's there now, much to his fleeting dismay, and he eases the door open before nerves fray enough to force him back and away.]
You in here?
[After what's proven to be a very long couple of days, Jesse is unwinding the best way he knows how, with a pack by an open window.
He pulls a chair up and settles there, elbow resting on the sill and head resting in his hand. It only takes two minutes for him to doze off. A familiar voice drifting into the room startles him into blinking awake-- drowsily, he stubs his cigarette out, flicks the end out the window.]
Yeah. Hey. [Rubbing his eyes with both palms before lifting them to find Hiruma.] 'sup?
[A niggling voice in the back of his head is warning him of what this might be about.]
He pulls a chair up and settles there, elbow resting on the sill and head resting in his hand. It only takes two minutes for him to doze off. A familiar voice drifting into the room startles him into blinking awake-- drowsily, he stubs his cigarette out, flicks the end out the window.]
Yeah. Hey. [Rubbing his eyes with both palms before lifting them to find Hiruma.] 'sup?
[A niggling voice in the back of his head is warning him of what this might be about.]
In the month that had followed Wade's not-so-glorious return to the land of the sober, things had been relatively quiet for a while, if a bit tense for all involved. The mass revelation of the existence of storage still hung over everyone like a bad smell, but it was more than that. For the first time since he'd first started amassing real friends in Haven, Wade once again felt like he was the odd duck out. The feeling was an uncomfortably familiar one-- there was a certain electricity in the air; a dread that something was about to happen.
He remembered it from his days back home, when his (temporary) allies and colleagues would look upon him with apprehension and a vague suspicion, as if dealing with a wild animal that was only chained, never completely tamed. He feels that now, in his own housing block-- the feeling that most of the inhabitants are tiptoeing around him (or, in the case of Hiruma, watching him like a hawk to gauge when-- not if-- he would fuck up again) and it was definitely not a feeling he welcomed.
The noises would be audible even to someone outside of the housing block. They're desperate, scrambling sounds-- sounds of either a struggle or of someone tearing the place apart in an attempt to to find something. If Jesse were to follow the disturbing cacophony to its source, he would find the apartment he and Wade share in utter shambles. Once-made beds are unmade again, drawers are pulled haphazardly out and left there. In the center of all of this mess stands Wade, his hand to his head, his posture tense and almost trembling; the very picture of a man who is at the end of his rope.
He remembered it from his days back home, when his (temporary) allies and colleagues would look upon him with apprehension and a vague suspicion, as if dealing with a wild animal that was only chained, never completely tamed. He feels that now, in his own housing block-- the feeling that most of the inhabitants are tiptoeing around him (or, in the case of Hiruma, watching him like a hawk to gauge when-- not if-- he would fuck up again) and it was definitely not a feeling he welcomed.
The noises would be audible even to someone outside of the housing block. They're desperate, scrambling sounds-- sounds of either a struggle or of someone tearing the place apart in an attempt to to find something. If Jesse were to follow the disturbing cacophony to its source, he would find the apartment he and Wade share in utter shambles. Once-made beds are unmade again, drawers are pulled haphazardly out and left there. In the center of all of this mess stands Wade, his hand to his head, his posture tense and almost trembling; the very picture of a man who is at the end of his rope.
Edited 2015-03-27 20:23 (UTC)
For Jesse's part, it's been difficult to get the conversation with Hiruma out of his head. No matter which way he tries to look at it, the guy had made a couple of irrefutable points, which put him in the difficult position of having to approach Wade for the second time about a topic he'd rather let alone.
So, he's been procrastinating. With the sound of a loud ruckus coming from their room, it vanishes from his mind completely. Eyebrow quirking, he pushes the door open with a good deal of apprehension.
... it's like a bomb went off in here. Jesse frowns, both at the mess and at himself for that mother-like internal commentary. He takes a tentative step inside-- closes the door behind him on second thought, quietly.
"Wade, what the hell?" Despite phrasing, it's not the least bit sharp. He sees that tremble and it worries him. "What's goin' on?"
So, he's been procrastinating. With the sound of a loud ruckus coming from their room, it vanishes from his mind completely. Eyebrow quirking, he pushes the door open with a good deal of apprehension.
... it's like a bomb went off in here. Jesse frowns, both at the mess and at himself for that mother-like internal commentary. He takes a tentative step inside-- closes the door behind him on second thought, quietly.
"Wade, what the hell?" Despite phrasing, it's not the least bit sharp. He sees that tremble and it worries him. "What's goin' on?"
[in one hour, hiruma figures it out.
a very, very long hour spent waiting with a deflating football and the erratic tap of his boot's toe.
it's their designated time for play, sheltered away the housing block in an open sandpit by the church. it's a time jesse doesn't miss; hasn't ever missed (unless they missed it together). all work and no play was never a motto they could abide by. unlike many of the others, they're not people who can spend days on end poring over a whiny network—people have been dropping into storage like flies, and that's not a pleasant wake-up call.
really, he should have fucking known. but for all the time jesse's been here, after a year of waiting, hiruma was always under the impression that he himself would be the first to go. he didn't have a reason to think that. it was just a feeling he always had. maybe it was simply irrational worry keeping him awake at night. maybe he's outstayed his world-hopping welcomes.
maybe.
hiruma doesn't cry, when he can't find jesse's picture on his phone.
he doesn't do much of anything, at first, after the second scroll-through; the third; the sixth. it's only when he shuts the phone on the tenth, does something seem to grab him violently—the very cold hand of realism clamps down with a bitter force on the back of his neck, bringing an overwhelming nausea into his gut, and before long he clues into his shock.
the strong tremor in his hands forces him to drop the communicator, the football, and the façade.
no.
no, no, no.
wide eyes dart down, down, down to the scar on the back of his hand that looks like it's a mile away from his face. past the rapid rise and fall of his chest as the hysterics set in and the panic attack holds him in place like he's a rat caught on a glue board. the more he struggles to keep calm and think about this with a level head, the heavier his breathing gets.
Together or bust.
there's something to be said about bending until you snap back.
to strip himself clean of how hard his soul's been rattled (another one, god no, not this one, not jesse—it's not fair, he's worked so hard and seen so many people disappear or die, it's not fair his whole life has been just out of his reach), he reaches to slam his fist through the stained glass window of the church, knuckles splitting as colour rains down an absolute mockery of an ashy face. the other digs into asphalt and dust where his knee drops, nails scraping when there's nothing to throw, nothing to hit but brick wall and ground.
he wants to pick himself up and shake himself off, but the mantra comes out as a yell against unforgiving dirt, pressing gravel into his forehead.
You're a good reason to keep my shit together.
("i don't cry," hiruma's always replied to the ones who've believed to the contrary, trying to make his business theirs. "i never need to.")]
a very, very long hour spent waiting with a deflating football and the erratic tap of his boot's toe.
it's their designated time for play, sheltered away the housing block in an open sandpit by the church. it's a time jesse doesn't miss; hasn't ever missed (unless they missed it together). all work and no play was never a motto they could abide by. unlike many of the others, they're not people who can spend days on end poring over a whiny network—people have been dropping into storage like flies, and that's not a pleasant wake-up call.
really, he should have fucking known. but for all the time jesse's been here, after a year of waiting, hiruma was always under the impression that he himself would be the first to go. he didn't have a reason to think that. it was just a feeling he always had. maybe it was simply irrational worry keeping him awake at night. maybe he's outstayed his world-hopping welcomes.
maybe.
hiruma doesn't cry, when he can't find jesse's picture on his phone.
he doesn't do much of anything, at first, after the second scroll-through; the third; the sixth. it's only when he shuts the phone on the tenth, does something seem to grab him violently—the very cold hand of realism clamps down with a bitter force on the back of his neck, bringing an overwhelming nausea into his gut, and before long he clues into his shock.
the strong tremor in his hands forces him to drop the communicator, the football, and the façade.
no.
no, no, no.
wide eyes dart down, down, down to the scar on the back of his hand that looks like it's a mile away from his face. past the rapid rise and fall of his chest as the hysterics set in and the panic attack holds him in place like he's a rat caught on a glue board. the more he struggles to keep calm and think about this with a level head, the heavier his breathing gets.
Together or bust.
there's something to be said about bending until you snap back.
to strip himself clean of how hard his soul's been rattled (another one, god no, not this one, not jesse—it's not fair, he's worked so hard and seen so many people disappear or die, it's not fair his whole life has been just out of his reach), he reaches to slam his fist through the stained glass window of the church, knuckles splitting as colour rains down an absolute mockery of an ashy face. the other digs into asphalt and dust where his knee drops, nails scraping when there's nothing to throw, nothing to hit but brick wall and ground.
he wants to pick himself up and shake himself off, but the mantra comes out as a yell against unforgiving dirt, pressing gravel into his forehead.
You're a good reason to keep my shit together.
("i don't cry," hiruma's always replied to the ones who've believed to the contrary, trying to make his business theirs. "i never need to.")]
Edited 2015-04-10 19:47 (UTC)
[twelve more hours pass, and hiruma finds himself kneeling in an empty 1.2, scraping up a floorboard.
nothing much under there, but it feels wrong to just leave it untouched. he knows he shouldn't be rifling through jesse's things, but without a will and testament, someone ought to take charge of the belongings now that the others can't. everyone fades with time, he's been repeating, everyone dies, just keep running; their presences don't.
is that fortunate, or unfortunate?
for someone as nostalgic as hiruma, who decides that even the nudie mags and carton of cigarettes are important to store away, it's surely the latter.
stuffing everything into his knapsack takes a long while, but he leans back against the cot with a huff of stale air after drawing out a lighter low on fuel. a few more flickers of flame and it'll snuff itself out for good—a decent life, goal achieved, leaving this place satisfied. it was put to good use. the quarterback determines to give it one last victory lap before tossing the empty container into the hole it came from.
tilting back with a scratch of the flint wheel, a head of bleach blond hair pillows on a familiar comforter, dull eyes watch it burn white paper until they close tightly, cherry of the cigarette bobbing as he draws a breath of smoke.
and the floorboard is kicked back into place with a slam of wood.]
nothing much under there, but it feels wrong to just leave it untouched. he knows he shouldn't be rifling through jesse's things, but without a will and testament, someone ought to take charge of the belongings now that the others can't. everyone fades with time, he's been repeating, everyone dies, just keep running; their presences don't.
is that fortunate, or unfortunate?
for someone as nostalgic as hiruma, who decides that even the nudie mags and carton of cigarettes are important to store away, it's surely the latter.
stuffing everything into his knapsack takes a long while, but he leans back against the cot with a huff of stale air after drawing out a lighter low on fuel. a few more flickers of flame and it'll snuff itself out for good—a decent life, goal achieved, leaving this place satisfied. it was put to good use. the quarterback determines to give it one last victory lap before tossing the empty container into the hole it came from.
tilting back with a scratch of the flint wheel, a head of bleach blond hair pillows on a familiar comforter, dull eyes watch it burn white paper until they close tightly, cherry of the cigarette bobbing as he draws a breath of smoke.
and the floorboard is kicked back into place with a slam of wood.]
Edited 2015-04-10 19:51 (UTC)
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