[OPEN] Wait, let me set the record straight: I was never really yours in the first place.

[hostage]

Date & Time: January 9 and onward
Location: in and about town
Characters: Jesse & OPEN to anyone
Summary: A chance for an everyday encounter with Jesse. Put the date in your subject line!
Warnings: Breaking Bad spoilers are likely.

[Jesse might be the only one who finds Exsilium's current state beautiful rather than desolate and depressing. For more reasons than one, if given the choice between here and home, he'd choose here without hesitation. The snow and the chill do nothing to deter him from taking long walks. For as long as he can physically stand it, he prefers the cold over being confined inside four walls.

So he walks. Every day, without any particular destination, without anything else to occupy him. The concerns of the Initiative and the Transports are no longer his own. Whatever they're up to, they mean little to him. He's still got enough stolen Russian gold to pay for whatever he needs without having to work, so that's how he's choosing to live for as long as he's able. His time is spent doing whatever he wants to do, and at the moment, what he wants to do is wander.

Freedom: that's what this is about. No one is ever going to make him do anything ever again.]

Comments

[hostage]

[Jesse isn't sure what fortuitous means, but...]

It was pretty bad.

[He pauses, wavering between not wanting to bother Mr. Gold further and his overwhelming desire to run straight into the arms of someone who might replace what he's lost. He hates Mr. White. And he misses him, so terribly - that man who was older, wiser, looking out for him and defending him and making sure the worst never happened to him.]

I... I dunno if you...

[Shit, his eyes are getting watery.]

Who has two thumbs and loses notifs an obscene amount THIS GIRL. jfc i am so sorry.

[undealt]

[Oh.

Gold stiffens, caught off-guard by this sudden emotional break and while normally such a thing would put him off and set him to walking away to be rid of the situation, he can't move. Because all he can think of is Baelfire and countless centuries of not being there to be a decent father to him. And that's all this is, isn't it? Playacting and pretending he hasn't lost his son and he isn't going to leave this accursed war to die and hope in death, he did the right thing by him.

He hesitates for a second and then reaches out and lays a hand on Jesse's shoulder and squeezes it, reassuringly.] There now. What happened?

[Interest. Compassion. Possibly even an elimination of the threat if it's still there. He's projecting horribly and he can't be arsed to care about it. They both are- this much he knows without a shadow of a doubt.]