[OPEN] Look out to the future but it tells you nothing, so take another breath.

[hostage]

Date & Time: August 18-25
Location: ???
Characters: Jesse & OPEN to all
Summary: Everyday encounters with one adorable junkie.
Warnings: Well, it's Jesse Pinkman, so drug abuse and spoilers.
Notes: This is a catch-all log. Put the date and location in the subject line.


[Routine. It's one of the first things they teach you in rehab: the importance of routine. The uncertainty of an unplanned day leads to anxiety, which leads to the temptation to use. Routine encourages stability and productivity. No guesswork, no drifting. It's all laid out. You wake up and you know what you're supposed to do until the moment it's time for sleep again.

Jesse is beyond saving when it comes to his addiction, but he still lives by the routine. It's important not because it'll stop him from using, but because it'll stop him from completely losing his mind and hurting someone again.

He doesn't bother with breakfast. He snorts a line of meth to get him going, because god knows that coffee isn't strong enough, and that kills his appetite pretty quick. He's out of the apartment around ten, smoking a cigarette on his way to the lab. Depending on what needs doing, he'll either spend the entire day there or run out to the clinics in town to administer anti-verstatsi drugs to the populace and help measure their progress. Another cigarette replaces lunch. When work is done, he puts in his training hours at the gun range. Then it's time to go home and wind down, which usually involves a joint or a needle or sex or all of the above. Weed helps him stomach a small dinner. He forces himself to shower even when he doesn't want to. He shoots tranq to get to sleep.

And repeat.]

Comments

the 18th! Shooting range (feel free to bracket I just couldn't be bothered with HTML

[speakveryclearly]

Kanaya usually puts her training hours in earlier, especially during the weekdays when she works in the bakery during the afternoon. On this particular weekend, however, she has decided to switch things up. Partially it was so she could get more time in the library. To some extent, throwing a wrench into the routine convinces her that she has control, not the interdimensional hand of fate. This has backfired in a couple of ways. The distribution of transports here is different because of the different time. That girl with the bow who always misses her targets isn't here... but on the bright side a face she has seen around other places, just not during normal training hours for her. A gun, huh? Those are popular with humans. Things that are popular with humans oughtn't to be unpopular with her, though that didn't motivate her original choice. She just didn't want to further evolve her chainsaw, and it's paid dividends in her ability to help out transports unfamiliar with firearms.

At an idle moment for both of them, she swallows her irrational adult fear and approaches, all friendly with her fangs tucked underneath her lips, not visible outside of brief glimpses when she opens her mouth. "I know those are a favorite on this planet but I haven't known very many to choose them for training beyond basic use. Did you use one before coming here?"

[hostage]

[Jesse sees her approaching in his peripheral vision as he finishes a round. The gun ends up tucked into the waistband of his jeans (improper and unsafe!) and he pulls out his earplugs so he can hear her better.]

Um, yeah. I'm from the Wild West, you know? Everybody's got one.

[speakveryclearly]

Her home world didn't have a Wild West; it takes her a moment of blinking to make the connection to something within her experience - the Exsilium event.

"Like in Black Rock...?" She did see a couple of shoot-outs there... that makes sense.

[hostage]

[Right. Alien.]

Yeah. Exactly there, actually. That's where I come from. We were like an hour from my house.

[speakveryclearly]

"Really?" Her lips are tugged up at the corners; her eyes are tightened a tiny bit by jealousy. "What are the odds of that."

[forward-dated a bit to the 19th; on the way to one of the clinics]

[hyanaimne]

[she's explored. Explored some more, looked and asked about what was around and gotten lost too many times that counting them were just embarrassing. Tempest had a good sense of direction - you had to, when you traveled around for a living, and well, being what she was, a little cheating here and there never hurt.

But there were no trees here to ask, no animals to question, only big buildings and annoying rain and every time she found herself around an unfamiliar corner, she had to bite back the urge to curse whatever or whoever was within reach. Walls included; that's how annoyed she got.

It was rounding one of these offending corners, her mind lost to how many different ways she could curse it and why, that she doesn't see anyone in front of her.

Collision imminent]

[hostage]

[Jesse happens to be vigilant when walking through the city streets, knowing how hostile the natives have been lately. Unfortunately, his gaze at this precise moment is directed over his shoulder, his attention caught by shouts coming from a nearby alley. He's only just decided it's probably nothing when - BAM! - he walks right into a pretty elf turning the corner.]

Oh, shit! Shit, sorry.

[There's an ugly bruise on the left side of his face, but she didn't give it to him just now. It's clearly days old.]

[hyanaimne]

[immediately she reaches out to steady him, because that was not an offending wall attacking her, but flesh and bones and dammit Tempest, you need to pay more attention]

No, no—my mind was elsewhere . . . Jesse?

[the next line slips out before she can stop herself, laden with sarcasm:]

You look lovely.

[hostage]

[He gives a dismissive shake of his head.]

It's nothing, just... Yeah. You okay?

August 21 ; ᴜɴɪᴛ 409

[ensorceler]

[ Though she thinks prayer has been helpful, it's difficult to really tell. She understands such a thing can take a long time, perhaps years, if the soul is truly damaged. She's sorry to find that Jesse seems to be such a case, even if she doesn't know why. He's 'hurt people'; it's such a vague suggestion that it could mean a number of things, in a number of ways. Perhaps his guilt is for naught, but she may never know.

She hardly considers Jesse like a charge, as she perhaps did Hisoka for a time, though it may seem as if she treats him so. But Anne doesn't eat much food, and so there is always extra to bring to him, or perhaps some "tea" that seems so popular with the Transports and that seems to help with the island's chill. That's what she brings this evening, as she has just acquired a silver tray she's delighted with, although the carafe and cups upon it are still brass, as she continues her quest for better everything.

With the tray balanced on one hand, Anne settled her shoulders and lifts her chin, knocking only twice and then waiting. She doesn't have much patience, though she can act otherwise. ]

[hostage]

[Jesse's just lit a joint when he hears the knock on the door, and he doesn't bother to get rid of it when he answers. Of course, the second he sees Anne standing there, he turns to exhale a stream of piney smoke in the opposite direction, then holds the joint behind his back. That's only polite.]

Hey! Hey, come in.

[ensorceler]

[ What the frack. She raises an eyebrow at him, glance momentarily drawn towards the smoking stick he not-so-subtly attempts to hide, before looking back up. One doesn't question what a man does in his own home, no matter how very different it smells (since subtle or not, he's right in front of her). She has nothing against smoke itself, at least, so long as it isn't too much, so her smile is back on her face by the time she moves to step in. ]

Well met. I hope I find you in good health.

[ Before Anne actually makes it all the way inside, though, she pauses at his side so that she can lean up onto her toes, head tilted for a kiss, apparently, or what else could it be? Hurry, it's not easy to balance tea like this. ]

[hostage]

Oh, yeah. Totally.

[- Which is a lie, because when he gets close enough to give her the kiss she seems to be asking for, the bruising on the left side of his face becomes apparent. It's more yellow than purple at this point, but it's there.]

the 18th | en route to somewhere!

[vaccination]

[A world without cordyceps wasn't perfect, but it was a hell of a lot safer than home. Ellie still looks over her shoulder at the slightest sound and makes note of things she could fit behind or under, but for the most part, she's calm. The nightmares are still there, but that wasn't because of any clicker or bloater. That was because of people. And there was no escaping people, so she'd just have to deal.

Things with Joel and Tess are a little weird, so when the "adults" need their privacy to talk (or... whatever), Ellie lets them have it. It's safer here, but she tells Joel where she'll be, that she'll have her tablet, and that she'll be careful.

She's still used to scavenging for supplies, so her eyes are mostly to the ground as she explores the streets. She glances up occasionally to keep out of the way of whoever else is out and about, and one instance grants her a vaguely familiar person. The guy who made the cookies.

She hesitates for a moment before lifting her arm in greeting.]

Uh, hey! Jesse, right?

[Be any more awkward, Ellie. She's cleaner now, having taken advantage of the showers provided. She seems a lot more at ease, too--she found Joel, he's okay, and she's adapting to this place.

Survival is one thing, learning how to socialize again is another. Cookie guy was one of the people she met that didn't treat her like a kid, so maybe he was worth talking to again.]

[hostage]

[Nothing about it strikes Jesse as awkward. He smiles as soon as he sees Ellie, waving in response and picking up his pace to join her. The closer he gets, the more obvious the bruises on his face become. A few days old, but still ugly.]

Yo! What's up?

[vaccination]

Holy shit, what's up with your face?

[Ellie motions to it, frowning.]

Did you get jumped?

[hostage]

What, this?

[Yes, Jesse. She just pointed right at it.]

Nahhh. Don't worry about it. I fell and hit my head. Just a little bump.

August 23, the gun range;

[5055034455]

[Saul's working backwards today. Training is usually first in his own daily routine, but he slept in this morning and accidentally threw off his entire schedule — so there he is, squeezing in his mandatory hours much later in the day than he'd like, looking very much like an expert marksman with his earmuffs and shooting glasses and... pistol?

He's broadening his horizons. The gun isn't his; it's on loan from the Initiative's armory, just like the sniper rifle last week and the revolver the week before that.

He's too focused to notice Jesse or anything else, really, and it shows in the way he unflinchingly fires round after round with consistent results: a little off-center each time.]

[hostage]

[A year ago, the sight of Saul wielding a gun would have been hilarious in a not-really-funny way. It's still hard to imagine this clown getting his own hands dirty. Saul used to be the kind of guy who used other people to kill people. (Jesse, for instance.)

How things change.

Jesse hardly bats an eye, now, when he catches sight of Saul as he's on his way out. He stops to observe, although he has very little to say about Saul's form. Mike could probably give some really good advice. Jesse, however, is no expert. And he's distracted by how Saul isn't responding to the recoil. Like, at all.]

Jesus, what kinda muscle you hiding under those ugly-ass suits?

[5055034455]

[Saul can't hear him. It's only Jesse's timing that turns Saul's attention his way — he needs to re-load, and when he bends to retrieve one of the fresh magazines waiting at his feet, he catches sight of Jesse's legs and looks up.]

What?

[Oh, wait. It would help if he removed those earmuffs, huh?]

— sorry. What?

[hostage]

[Oh my god, Saul. Get earplugs.]

The hell gun are you using? It's like you had zero kickback.

august 24th; unit 409

[hejhej]

[For once, it was completely quiet in the apartment. This had been the perfect time to get off of work because everyone was gone. Lisbeth acclimated to having roommates and to even sleeping in the same bed as another person, but being alone was still inherent inside her. With no one around, she could finally think about what she'd talked about with Barbara. Barbara still had yet to meet with Tony, but even Lisbeth knew she couldn't simply toss out to him "we want to rebuild the Internet." She had to make it look attractive, make it look worth his time.

Lisbeth lays on the couch as she thinks about a business proposal. Her cigarette burns in an ashtray.]

[hostage]

[Here comes Jesse, about to ruin that perfect peace and quiet (as he tends to). He walks into the apartment, tosses his rain-soaked jacket onto the floor, and immediately walks over to the couch to throw his arms around Lisbeth's shoulders and kiss the top of her head.]

Hello, beautiful.

[hejhej]

[There were just some nice things Lisbeth couldn't have.

Normally Lisbeth pushed away people who were in her thinking space. But with working in an office and having people constantly around her in the apartment, it was something she had to get used to. Besides, she never really pushed Jesse away for anything.

The corner of her mouth pulls into a small smile when he kisses her head.]

You're home early.

[hostage]

My wrist's hurting, gotta take a break from the shooting range.

[No - he wants to avoid Saul. But it's as good an excuse as any.]

I won't bother you. Gonna blaze one and take a nap or something.