. 01 // I've never seen Sharon look so bad before.

[underachievement]

WHO: Jessica Jones
WHERE: Fountain, Inn, Woods
WHEN: June 21st (evening), June 22nd and onward
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Panic attack, alcoholism, party crashing, mention of disturbed sleep, PG-13 language

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06/21: FOUNTAIN, 11PM+

Jess sputters out of the water's thrashing surface, spitting and cursing like Aphrodite with a hangover. She hangs over the fountain's edge for a while, catching her breath. She can hold it for several minutes, if she gets a chance to hold it. Her life isn't exactly lousy with chances. Once she's ridden the survival reflex out, there are still minutes of panting and gasping to do, until she can utilize the rhythm of the words not again that repeat ad nauseam in her head, assigns a breath to each one. Gradually, as she's able to let herself breathe, she hammers the words into nice, harmless numbers.

Her throat and nose still burn from hacking up water but she can see through the chaos in her head, at least.

It's dead dark and she's alone, immersed in the cold water up to her chest. There are a few lights, not too far off, that her vision sharpens around as she adjusts to the night and blinks water from her eyelashes. Jess heaves herself out, as heavy as if she were wearing jeans but, disconcertingly, she's not. She can't tell what colour they are but they feel thin. She pats the collar to confirm it's not another shitty jumpsuit, tamps down the dread that she's returned to Reims. This isn't how they do things, for one, and the Sound Eaters would have gotten her by now and sent her to the Reset Room. No sandpaths under her feet when she starts walking.

Jess is no less on guard for having battened down her composure, and she's no less unaware that she's without her regular roster of super powers and currently walking around with her new ability on blast: A two foot shield repelling physical contact. She's hardly inviting it, soaking wet and glowering, blatantly brand new in her red scrubs, yet bleeding the vibe that she's going through the same shit as always, just on a different day.

Prior to checking out her device, the network, the villages, or anything, she beelines towards the potluck in its dying hours. The first person she passes within two feet of will be brusquely shoved aside and likely lose hold of anything they've got in hand. Come get batted about by the force field she has no control over or remark on the sneer of mistrust she's giving all the food and drink (and tell her what's good). (The force field can affect physical objects as well but let's say nothing larger or heavier than your average person.)

06/22: INN 9AM+, WOODS 4PM+

Despite raiding the proverbial fridge, Jess then staunchly refuses as much hospitality as possible. She spends her first night in a free room and the next morning huffily turning her back on the empty bar. She stalks around outside, technically goes for a walk, taking whatever turns lead to solitude. After some time to herself, she levels out by familiarizing herself with her device and the attached network.

That's where she gets the idea to go and scoop up some camping supplies, since it doesn't seem too difficult. To get them. Camping, as she found out a reality and a half ago, is pretty frickin' hard after the rations and matches run out. Jess doesn't go out far into the woods, she gets exhausted quick by ditching the path and kicking through branches and underbrush. She won't know how far away she really is or isn't until nightfall and the lights show up (or don't). Far enough for her to give up with satisfaction, drain half her one, single bottle of water, then get her tent standing.

There is no path leading to it but she starts to gently trample one in over the next few days. She squirrels away amenities from the Inn, so if anyone has noticed a couple things missing and follow the button prompts, this is where their inquiry will lead them. Happen upon her coming and going, since she really isn't that far away from regular foot traffic, and even once she figures that out, she's going to keep procrastinating moving her shit. Depending on how good the sleep she got the night before was, the tent may sit inside a distinct berth of twigs and branches. Like a fairy ring but for jackasses.

OTHER

[ ooc | Will match tag style if you prefer brackets! Feel free to toss any other scenarios at me, as long as they don't contradict the above two. My plot post is here if you'd like to discuss first, and here is Jess's bio and application with her CRAU history. ]

Comments

[digging]

"No idea," Karen replies with a tilt of her head and a soft scuff of laughter. "Everybody's got them. Apparently the different colors might signify different things, but we're not really clear on what yet. The weirdest thing to me is that some people have other clothes they get, not just the stuff that came in the bag. Normal clothes, or whatever's normal for them. So we're not forced to wear them."

Hell, they're technically not forced to wear them anyway, if you don't mind spending your time in Jim-Bob overalls.