[ Jesse spent a few days holed up in his room after escaping the hospital. He kept to himself, mostly trying to sleep off the whole experience. When deep in his trauma, Jesse tends to curl in on himself and withdraw from others. He feels the need to hide away and numb his pain rather than productively work through it. It all just gets compartmentalized and shoved aside by drugs and alcohol. Drugs, he has, but lucky for him Hell has everything in abundance, even if some of it is laced with things he never asked for. The other day, he drank a beer and ended up on what felt like an acid trip, stuck talking to himself in the bathroom mirror for over an hour without even realizing the passage of time.
Today, he finally feels okay enough to leave his room. There's been some buzz about a carnival, and it piques Jesse's curiosity. He can't help but keep some skepticism in his back pocket. Hell is a place to be punished and to repent, from everything he's learned, so the idea of having a good time at a carnival seems fishy to him. Still, his cabin fever had been getting bad enough to warrant him stretching his legs outside for a while. Like a moth to a flame, Jesse's drawn to the music and lights eminating from the carnival, and it doesn't take long before he arrives on the grounds.
The carnival is still being set-up, it appears, but that won't stop Jesse from taking a look around. As soon as he walks through a rusty turnstile, a demon makes a gurgly noise at him and shoves something into his palm. It's cold to the touch, and when Jesse looks down at the newly acquired item, he notices that it's what looks like a can of soda. He rolls the can in his hand so he can read the label: Speed Energy. ]
Huh. So, what, Red Bull or somethin'?
[ He asks nobody in particular, and cracks the can open without a second thought, starting to chug it down as he wanders the carnival aimlessly. By the time he tosses the empty drink into a trash can, it's starting to hit him. He's starting to sweat, his pupils are dilating, he's feeling jittery all over and everything is suddenly ten times more interesting. Jesse's eyes dart around and he ends up in front of some kind of game booth. It's like that game where you throw a baseball at a tower of metal milk jugs, but these look more like potion bottles than milk jugs. Some are glowing, others are bubbling. The one at the top of the pyramid is giving off a neon green smoke and crackling slightly. He's supposed to be helping put things together, not testing out the games, but Jesse's never been known for playing by the rules. Jesse grabs a ball and tosses it gently up in the air a few inches, catching it in his palm--testing the weight. He turns to (your character) and asks: ]
Think I can knock 'em all down?
REACH UP HIGH
[ At some point jesse finds himself being manhandled by two burly demons. he initially thinks he's being thrown out of the festival by security; something he's used to, but starts to panic when he's shoved down into a chair in what reminds him far too much of an interrogation room for his own comfort. Two chairs separated by a table in the middle of an otherwise empty room? Yeah. This is uncomfortably familiar. He struggles and tries to excape to no avail, then finally resigns and sits with a huff, leaning back defiantly. He's quick to admit one of his sins. Some are easier to admit to than others, so he starts light, searching for an easy way out. ]
I dunno, yo, I guess lying? That's one of my sins. It ain't like I did it just once, but like...I did it outta self-preservation, every time. That I can guarantee.
[ Now he's picking at the edge of the table, eyes focused on that, a bit of a scowl stuck on his face. His next words aren't necessarily aimed at the person sitting across from him, but they're said loud enough for them to hear regardless. ]
Not like I'm the only person who's ever lied. I bet everyone has.
FOLLOW ME DOWN: PROMPT I
[ When Jesse arrives at Club Penance, a rather lacy set of lingerie is shoved into his hands. He eyes it and then looks at the demon who placed it there. There's a moment of silence, his brain clanking away at his observations. ]
Yo. You can't be serious.
[ He's supposed to wear this? Nah. Ain't happening. Not a chance in...in Hell. Jesse tosses the lingerie haphazardly over his shoulder and continues his way further into the club. Perhaps the discarded lacy ensemble lands draped across your character's face.
Once it's clear that he's not complying with the 'rules', a couple of demons manhandle him and some magic spell is cast, which makes his clothing magically disappear. In their stead, Jesse is left in some kind of leather harness--straps across his slender body with a cold, metal ring holding it all together in the center of his chest. At least he has pants on still, though they're way, waaaay tighter than any pair in his closet back home. He's used to swimming in his clothes, not being constrained by them. The leather pants grip every bit of his anatomy and he kind of feels naked even with clothes on. He doesn't have any choice now. His 'regular' clothes are nowhere to be seen, so it's either this or go in his birthday suit, so he decides he'd better leave at least a little bit to the imagination.
Anger flares on his face and he whips around, grabbing the nearest demon by the shoulders. ]
If someone doesn't give me back my shit in, like, thirty seconds..?
FOLLOW ME DOWN: PROMPT II
[ The next thing Jesse knows is that there's food and he's gotten his clothes back, though he's been made to keep the leather harness bit on under his hoodie. Call it a compromise. It smells way better than the lame cafeteria junk he'd found back in the Hotel building. This seems decadent, like some gourmet treats done up right. He can dig it, even if back home he mostly kept himself alive with knock-off Pop Tarts and Funyuns. ]
Damn. This looks awesome.
[ Jesse says before digging into a platter of what appears to be nachos. They taste good, and the first tentative bite leads to more voracious eating before he's turning his head and talking to the person nearest to him, one cheek chipmunk-full. ]
jesse pinkman | breaking bad | ota
[ Jesse spent a few days holed up in his room after escaping the hospital. He kept to himself, mostly trying to sleep off the whole experience. When deep in his trauma, Jesse tends to curl in on himself and withdraw from others. He feels the need to hide away and numb his pain rather than productively work through it. It all just gets compartmentalized and shoved aside by drugs and alcohol. Drugs, he has, but lucky for him Hell has everything in abundance, even if some of it is laced with things he never asked for. The other day, he drank a beer and ended up on what felt like an acid trip, stuck talking to himself in the bathroom mirror for over an hour without even realizing the passage of time.
Today, he finally feels okay enough to leave his room. There's been some buzz about a carnival, and it piques Jesse's curiosity. He can't help but keep some skepticism in his back pocket. Hell is a place to be punished and to repent, from everything he's learned, so the idea of having a good time at a carnival seems fishy to him. Still, his cabin fever had been getting bad enough to warrant him stretching his legs outside for a while. Like a moth to a flame, Jesse's drawn to the music and lights eminating from the carnival, and it doesn't take long before he arrives on the grounds.
The carnival is still being set-up, it appears, but that won't stop Jesse from taking a look around. As soon as he walks through a rusty turnstile, a demon makes a gurgly noise at him and shoves something into his palm. It's cold to the touch, and when Jesse looks down at the newly acquired item, he notices that it's what looks like a can of soda. He rolls the can in his hand so he can read the label: Speed Energy. ]
Huh. So, what, Red Bull or somethin'?
[ He asks nobody in particular, and cracks the can open without a second thought, starting to chug it down as he wanders the carnival aimlessly. By the time he tosses the empty drink into a trash can, it's starting to hit him. He's starting to sweat, his pupils are dilating, he's feeling jittery all over and everything is suddenly ten times more interesting. Jesse's eyes dart around and he ends up in front of some kind of game booth. It's like that game where you throw a baseball at a tower of metal milk jugs, but these look more like potion bottles than milk jugs. Some are glowing, others are bubbling. The one at the top of the pyramid is giving off a neon green smoke and crackling slightly. He's supposed to be helping put things together, not testing out the games, but Jesse's never been known for playing by the rules. Jesse grabs a ball and tosses it gently up in the air a few inches, catching it in his palm--testing the weight. He turns to (your character) and asks: ]
Think I can knock 'em all down?
REACH UP HIGH
[ At some point jesse finds himself being manhandled by two burly demons. he initially thinks he's being thrown out of the festival by security; something he's used to, but starts to panic when he's shoved down into a chair in what reminds him far too much of an interrogation room for his own comfort. Two chairs separated by a table in the middle of an otherwise empty room? Yeah. This is uncomfortably familiar. He struggles and tries to excape to no avail, then finally resigns and sits with a huff, leaning back defiantly. He's quick to admit one of his sins. Some are easier to admit to than others, so he starts light, searching for an easy way out. ]
I dunno, yo, I guess lying? That's one of my sins. It ain't like I did it just once, but like...I did it outta self-preservation, every time. That I can guarantee.
[ Now he's picking at the edge of the table, eyes focused on that, a bit of a scowl stuck on his face. His next words aren't necessarily aimed at the person sitting across from him, but they're said loud enough for them to hear regardless. ]
Not like I'm the only person who's ever lied. I bet everyone has.
FOLLOW ME DOWN: PROMPT I
[ When Jesse arrives at Club Penance, a rather lacy set of lingerie is shoved into his hands. He eyes it and then looks at the demon who placed it there. There's a moment of silence, his brain clanking away at his observations. ]
Yo. You can't be serious.
[ He's supposed to wear this? Nah. Ain't happening. Not a chance in...in Hell. Jesse tosses the lingerie haphazardly over his shoulder and continues his way further into the club. Perhaps the discarded lacy ensemble lands draped across your character's face.
Once it's clear that he's not complying with the 'rules', a couple of demons manhandle him and some magic spell is cast, which makes his clothing magically disappear. In their stead, Jesse is left in some kind of leather harness--straps across his slender body with a cold, metal ring holding it all together in the center of his chest. At least he has pants on still, though they're way, waaaay tighter than any pair in his closet back home. He's used to swimming in his clothes, not being constrained by them. The leather pants grip every bit of his anatomy and he kind of feels naked even with clothes on. He doesn't have any choice now. His 'regular' clothes are nowhere to be seen, so it's either this or go in his birthday suit, so he decides he'd better leave at least a little bit to the imagination.
Anger flares on his face and he whips around, grabbing the nearest demon by the shoulders. ]
If someone doesn't give me back my shit in, like, thirty seconds..?
FOLLOW ME DOWN: PROMPT II
[ The next thing Jesse knows is that there's food and he's gotten his clothes back, though he's been made to keep the leather harness bit on under his hoodie. Call it a compromise. It smells way better than the lame cafeteria junk he'd found back in the Hotel building. This seems decadent, like some gourmet treats done up right. He can dig it, even if back home he mostly kept himself alive with knock-off Pop Tarts and Funyuns. ]
Damn. This looks awesome.
[ Jesse says before digging into a platter of what appears to be nachos. They taste good, and the first tentative bite leads to more voracious eating before he's turning his head and talking to the person nearest to him, one cheek chipmunk-full. ]
You try these? They're bomb.